1 


1 


\l 


ACRE*  OF  DOCKS 
U«  PACIFIC  AVINlfc 
!_•*«  »«ACH.  CALIF. 


/vo^ 


WHEELS  AND  WHIMS, 


n  fgtclritqj. 


BOSTON: 
CUPPLES,   UPHAM  &  COMPANY, 

(Dli)  Corner 

1884. 


COPYRIGHTED,   1884, 

BY 
FLORINE  THAYER  McCRAY 

AND 
ESTHER  LOUISE  SMITH. 

All  rights  reserved. 


PRESS  OF  THE  CASE,  LOCKWOOD  &  BRAINARD  CO., 
HARTFORD,  CONN. 


•6166: 


'The  abject  people,  gazing  on  thy  face 
With  envious  looks, 

That  erst  did  follow  thy  proud  chariot  wheels, 
When  thou  didst  ride  in  triumph  through  the  streets." 

(2d)  KING  HENRY  VI. 


In  a  word  to  the  leader,  it  may  be  said  that  this  book  is  not 
an  attempt  at  belles-lettres.  In  it  will  be  found  no  psychological 
perceptions,  no  impression  effects,  and  no  flowers  of  rhetoric — 
being  simply  an  unadorned  narrative  of  a  tricycle  trip  by  four 
young  women,  with  its  experiences,  incidental,  accidental,  and 
adventurous. 

If  it  will  influence  to  out-of-door  activity,  and  incite  an  escape 
from  listless  lounging  in  sunless  rooms  and  the  artificial  heat 
and  vitiated  atmosphere  of  modern  houses,  to  vigorous  exercise 
in  sunshine  and  open  air,  and  to  freer  association  with  all 
nature's  beauty,  its  object  will  have  been  accomplished. 


PuTOUT. — "^b/   tale    tbou  didst  well  etcf?. 

^ELLPOOL. — "  Btcb  !  Wberefore?  (^>|?ou  art 
witty. 

PUT, — "  Fio,    it   is  tbou   wbo   art  witty. 

(ij)ELL— "8nd   wby?" 

PUT. — "WbyV  Because  on  Rature's  metallic 
plate,  tbe  acts,  tbe  facts,  tbe  smiles, 
tbe  tears,  tbe  li^b"!",  tbe  sbade,  do  marl^ 
tbemselves  witb  equal  strenatb-  ^is 
tby  wit  and  tbme  intelligence  dotb  bite 
and  eat  tbe  impress  witb  viaor  tbat 
dotb  sbow  tbe  reprint  witb  stril^ina  force. 
We  do  exclaim,  (ipis  well  done!" 

(ij)ELL — "  ^b©n  am   ^   clever  I 

PUT.— "Ha!  ba!  Rot  so.  Rot  as  clever 
as  yonder  furry  feline.  (Ipbou  canst 
not  scale  tbat  fir. 

FROM  STURM'S  "LIFE'S  COMEDY." 


CHAPTER  I. 


WAS  the  evening  of  Tuesday. 
'T  was  Tuesday  the  ninth  of  October. 

'T  was  October  of  '83. 

It  was  with  slow,  weary  steps,  at  a  late  hour,  that  Mar- 
gery Prescott  mounted  the  winding  stairs  to  her  room. 
Entering,  she  turned  the  key. 

Touching  the  electric  chain  attached  to  the  chandelier, 
the  instantaneous  flood  of  light  illumined  her  pale  face ;  a 
paleness  of  which  she  felt  conscious,  for  she  stepped 
quickly  to  the  long  mirror  which  stood  between  the  gas- 
jets.  Turning  on  their  full  blaze,  she  looked  closely  at 
her  image  in  the  glass.  Then,  straightening  up,  tall  and 
defiant,  she  said  in  a  strained  voice,  "Now  tell  the  tale  if 
you  dare!" 

For  the  first  time  in  her  young  life,  she  felt  a  sore  pain 
in  her  heart,  which  brought  this  pallor  to  her  cheek. 

"Yes,  this  comes  from  a  heart-ache.  I  have  hitherto 
experienced  but  one  phase  of  love.  Here  comes  the  other. 
Pleasure,  pain — joy,  grief — inevitable,  they  say;  but  I  had 

(7) 


g  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

not  believed  it.  It  shall  not  be  so  with  me."  She  closed 
her  lips  firmly  together  and  still  gazed  at  herself,  almost 
wondering  at  the  hard  look  she  saw  in  her  own  face. 
•'Those  lines  around  my  mouth — how  hard  they  look,  and 
drawn  and  old — they  are  tell-tales,  too,  of  pain  within. 
They  shall  not  be."  Here  she  forced  a  smile.  "Havel 
a  frown,  also  ?  No,  thank  heaven !  the  brow  is  fair  and 
clear.  No  lines  shall  show  there." 

She  pushed  back  the  waves  of  her  heavy  brown  hair, 
and  gave  a  proud  toss  of  her  head.  She  rubbed,  with  her 
cold  finger-tips,  the  glow  again  to  her  cheek,  and  bit  her 
lip  a  little,  to  give  again  its  coral  hue.  A  little  laugh 
came  to  show  the  pearly  teeth,  as  she  unfastened  the  lace 
at  her  throat. 

"Beautiful  as  ever!  so  it  shall  remain,"  she  cried.  "I 
will  not  suffer,  and  pine,  and  droop.  Indeed,  he  shall  not 
break  my  hopes  of  life ;  my  heart  shall  not  be  torn  by  his 
fickleness ;  I  despise  him  for  it !  Man-flirt !  How  I  hate 
him !  Shameful  enough  in  silly  girls — but  a  man-flirt  is 
detestable." 

She  loosened  her  long  tresses ;  the  brilliants  in  her  ears 
were  unclasped ;  the  diamond  on  her  finger  hastily  drawn 
off  and  dropped  into  the  jewel-case  without  a  glance  at 
them.  Mechanically,  she  lowered  the  gas  and  sank  into  a 
fauteuil  by  the  window.  'T  was  midnight  hour;  the  full 
moon  shone  on  all  around.  Cold  and  sad  it  streamed  in 
on  her,  as  she  raised  her  dark  eyes  to  meet  its  rays  with 
burning  glance.  It  was  the  fire  in  her  soul  that  lent  the 
fervor  to  her  gaze,  for  to  all  outward  things  she  was 
oblivious. 


MARGERY.  g 

She  pressed  her  hand  to  her  beating  brow.  She  buried 
her  face  in  her  hands.  She  arose  and  paced  the  floor. 

"What — what  shall  I  do?"  she  said.  "Something! 
Somewhere!  Where  can  I  go?  What  must  I  do?  I 
shall  never  see  him  again,  never." 

The  hour  was  passing.  Still  she  sat  turning  over  in 
her  mind  the  situation — the  new  and  strange  position  of 
herself  towards  one  other — to  her,  the  one  other  of  all  the 
world.  But  now  she  was  to  give  him  up.  What  beside 
did  the  world  contain  for  her?  her  heart  cried,  but  she 
pressed  it  down  with  both  her  hands,  and  her  proud  lips 
replied,  "The  world  is  large.  I  have  papa.  For  my  own 
little  world,  he  should  be  enough."  But  her  heart  would 
undertone,  as  it  heavily  .beat,  "What's  the  world  to  me? 
What's  life,  now?" 

''Yes,  what  is  it  all  for?"  she  moaned;  "and  I  have  so 
long  to  live."  But  now  pride,  which  was  the  strong 
underlying  quality  of  her  nature,  came  to  lift  her  out  of 
this  despair. 

"It  can  be  what  I  will  make  it,"  she  exclaimed,  and 
walking  firmly  to  the  glass,  she  saw  a  new  courage  in  her 
eyes. 

"It  shall  be  grand,  and  good,  and  joyous,  as  any  life 
may  be ;  it  shall  not  be  a  failure  because — because — oh 
dear!"  she  sighed,  drooping  again.  "If  I  had  never 
known  him  at  all !  No  !  I  do  not  wish  that — I  have  found 
out  what  to  expect.  I  have  had  my  experience." 

She  stood  erect  and  faced  the  black  clouds  which  had 
obscured  the  light  of  the  moon  and  dimmed  all  around. 
She  drew  the  curtain  and  turned  again  to  the  lighted 


I0  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

mirror.  This  time  a  brave,  glowing  face  showed  its  reflec- 
tion. "No,  I  will  not  be  a  failure  because  of  him!"  She 
gave  a  trembling,  upward  glance.  A  tear  fell  down  her 
burning  cheek.  She  gave  a  scornful  turn  of  the  lip,  and 
brushed  it  quickly  away.  "I'll  not  shed  tears  for  him, 
however  much  it  hurts  me,"  she  said.  "They  may  be 
beautiful  in  the  shedding,  but  their  after  traces  tell  poor 
tales." 

As  she  looked  at  the  little  bronze  clock  on  the  mantel 
her  eye  fell  upon  a  letter,  which  had  before  escaped  her 
notice.  Opening  it,  she  rapidly  took  in  its  contents. 
"Why,  here  is  dear,  good  Mike,"  she  cried,  joyfully  clasp- 
ing her  hands.  "Join  her?  To  be  sure  I  will!  What  a 
god-send  this  is."  She  re-read  the  missive.  "Just  the 
thing,  exactly.  Papa  will  never  object — he  is  such  a 
darling !  I  fear  I  shall  not  sleep  a  wink  ;  but  I  must,  for 
he  will  see  in  a  twinkling  if  aught  is  amiss  with  his  pet. 
Oh  !  what  would  I  do  without  papa  ?  How  glad  I  am  that 
Newport  and  Watch  Hill  are  done  with.  No  more  of  that. 
But  what  glorious  times  we  did  have,  though !  But  I  hate 
the  very  thought  of  them  now — and  of  him,"  she  said, 
biting  her  trembling  lip  for  an  instant.  "  What  a  novelty 
it  will  be  to  go  off  with  Mike  and  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Mather, 
too,"  she  exclaimed,  consulting  the  note  once  more.  "  It 
will  be  just  delightful  !  I  am  so  glad  papa  had  my  wheels 
put  in  perfect  order.  They  are  all  ready.  We  can  start 
at  a  day's  notice.  But  I  must  get  to  sleep." 

While  she  sleeps,  we  will  look  over  the  previous  few 
hours  and  learn  what  had  so  turned  the  tide  in  the  affairs 
of  this  lovely  girl.  As  the  betrothed  of  Felix  Plummer, 


MARGERY. 


\l 


she  had  passed  a  year  of  uninterrupted  happiness.  Fine 
fellow  that  he  really  was,  he  was  wonderfully  wound  about 
with  the  silken  cords  of  her  love.  As  the  immediate  cause 
of  her  disquietude,  we  look  to  the  events  of  the  previous 
evening.  Margery  had  planned  an  informal  party.  Full 
of  gay  anticipations  of  the  occasion,  she  had,  of  course, 
confided  to  Felix  an  account  of  all  her  arrangements. 
He  was  as  usual  en  rapport  with  all  her  plans,  and  prom- 
ised to  be  early  in  attendance ;  even  proposed  himself  to 
assist  in  the  reception  of  her  guests.  A  sudden  shower, 
which  came  up  just  at  nightfall,  deterred  a  few  delicate 
ones  from  the  scene,  but  only  served  to  give  greater  zest 
to  the  enjoyment  of  those  who  were  assembled.  Each,  in 
lively  repartee  and  answering  laugh,  rivaled  the  other  in 
merriment,  lest  the  disappointment  might  spoil  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  hostess  whom  they  all  loved. 

But  Felix  did  not  come.  In  spite  of  her  regard  for  the 
pleasure  of  her  guests,  she  could  scarcely  conceal  her 
uneasiness  at  his  unaccountable  absence.  Once  she  laid 
her  hand  on  her  heart  as  she  overheard  George  Fuller  say 
to  Young  White  :  "  Pretty  grass  widow  —  considerably 
struck  —  they  do  say."  Impossible!  Unkind!  She 
would  not  believe  it ;  so  she  tried  to  smile,  and  finally 
Felix  appeared.  He  wore  a  deprecating  air  (as  it  seemed 
to  her  now  jealous  eyes),  and  said,  as  she  gave  him  a  cold 
hand,  "So  sorry  to  be  late,  Margie,  dear."  Aside  :  "  Met 
Mrs.  Bangtry,  without  an  umbrella,  of  course ;  could  do 
no  less  than  protect  her  from  the  rain.  So  far,  too.  And 
my  watch  had  stopped,  so  I  did  not  realize  it  was  so  past 
the  hour.  Would  have  called  a  cab,  had  I  known." 


12 


WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 


"Ah  !  "  Margery  felt  a  tremor  of  indignation  thrill  her 
frame.  She  drew  her  hand  from  his,  nor  would  even  meet 
his  gaze.  Felix  was  astonished. 

"Margery,"  he  said,  "you  surely  do  not  —  " 
She  had  turned  away  from  him  and  was  talking  with 
great  animation  to  Alex.  White,  who  was  only  too  glad  of 
a  chat  with  her,  having  once  been  quite  hopeful  of  more 
than  passing  favor  in  her  eyes.  Margery  gave  Felix 
Plummer  no  chance  for  further  conversation  during  the 
evening.  She  succeeded  in  avoiding  him,  and,  finally,  as 
the  party  broke  up,  offered  him  as  escort  to  a  limp,  timid, 
young  girl,  whom  she  knew  to  be  his  special  aversion, 
thus  effectually  dashing  his  hopes  of  an  explanation  of  her 
coolness.  An  indifferent  "good  night"  was  all  she  con- 
ceded as  he  left  the  door,  and  such  was  the  savage  air 
with  which  he  offered  his  arm  to  poor,  bashful  Miss  Brown 
that  she  knew  not  whether  to  be  most  amazed  or  angry. 


CHAPTER  II. 


^  "NT OW  what  in  the  name  of  all  that's  outrageous  and 
l\l    unreasonable,  did  Margery  mean  by  treating  me 
in  such  a  manner  this  evening  ? " 

Mr.  Felix  Plummer,  cashier  of  the  Fourth  National 
Bank,  a  muscular,  blonde,  and  cheery  specimen  of  hu- 
manity, had  come  in  a  few  minutes  before,  in  a  state  of 
surliness,  which  was  a  painful  surprise  to  the  black  and 
silky  Gordon  setter,  whom  he  loved  and  usually  petted 
with  the  tenderness  which  all  great  hearts  feel  for  kind 
and  intelligent  animals.  But  to-night,  as  the  beautiful 
dog  sprang  up  at  his  entrance,  welcoming  him  with  soft 
cries  and  licking  his  hand,  he  shouted  :  "  Get  out !  Lie 
down !  I'm  busy."  But  then,  as  the  sensitive  creature 
sank  at  his  feet  with  a  piteous  sigh  and  looked  up  in  such, 
mute  surprise  at  this  unwonted  treatment,  he  softened  a 
little,  and  said,  stooping  to  pat  her  sleek  head,  "  Never 
mind,  Lady,  I  did  not  mean  it.  Good  dog !  " 

Then  he  fell  into  a  chair  and  glowered  at  the  knob  on 
the  bedpost  for  some  minutes.  At  last  he  arose  with  a 

(13) 


I4  WHEELS  AND    Will. MS. 

jerk,  and,  going  to  a  little  closet  in  the  corner,  commenced 
to  rummage  among  the  things  therein. 

"  Confound  her  meddling  !  I  wish  that  green  chamber- 
maid, who  isn't  so  particular  about  sweeping  in  the  corners, 
would  let  my  traps  be  where  I  put  them.  That's  the 
curse  of  living  in  hired  rooms,"  muttered  he,  tossing  over 
papers,  diaries,  books  of  trout  flies,  a  reel  of  unwound  and 
tangled  line,  some  cigars,  a  silk  cap,  some  paper  shells 
ready  loaded  for  his  shot-gun,  a  few  pairs  of  gloves,  and  a 
silk  band  worked  with  his  initials,  for  the  inside  of  his 
hat,  which  he  would  never  wear,  rather  scorning  the  small 
elegancies  affected  by  modern  dudism.  "  Well,  where 
under  heavens  did  that  knife  come  from  ?  I  have  looked 
high  and  low  for  it.  Oh  !  here's  the  pipe,  after  all,  on  this 
little  ledge  where  I  always  keep  it.  I  have  been  think- 
ing," mused  he,  as  he  rilled  the  capacious  bowl  of  the 
well-blackened  pipe,  "that  I  should  have  a  home"  (he 
struck  a  match),  "  with  a  loving  wife  to  take  care  of  me 
(puff,  puff).  But  the  way  things  have  gone  to-night  (puff, 
puff,  puff),  there  don't  seem  to  be  much  prospect  (puff)  of 
it,  for  if  she  thinks,"  said  he,  raising  his  voice  and  address- 
ing the  wood-basket,  "  that  I  am  going  to  stand  much  of 
this  kind  of  nonsense,  she  is  mistaken,  that's  all." 

Here  Lady,  aroused  by  his  fierce  tones,  came  softly 
through  the  dim  gaslight  and  licked  the  clenched  fist  with 
which  he  had  struck  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"But  perhaps  it  is  just  as  well,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  a 
deep  sigh.  "Jim  Osborn  tells  me  that  his  wife  is  always 
cleaning  house  (puff,  puff),  and  when  he  has  things 
arranged  to  his  mind  and  thrown  carefully  under  the  bed, 


FELIX.  j  - 

she  will  fish  them  out  and  say  things She  gets  his 

shoes  and  rubbers  together  and  makes  a  row  clear  across  the 
room,  and  whenever  he  speaks  of  getting  a  new  pair,  she 
goes  and  fetches  out  some  of  the.  old  ones  he  is  saving  for 
fishing  and  throws  them  in  his  face  —  that  is,  metaphor- 
ically, I  suppose But  what  oh  earth  ailed  Margery 

to-night,  passes  my  understanding  ;  the  way  she  poked  that 
slimpsy  Brown  girl  on  to  me,  and  kept  herself  on  an 
unapproachable  pinnacle  of  dignity  when  I  was  near,  and 
set  to  work,  systematically,  to  bewitch  Alex.  White,  is  not 
to  be  borne  by  a  man  of  any  self-respect.  I'll  let  her  know 
I  am  not  little  Brown,  to  be  smiled  upon  or  scorned,  as 
her  ladyship  chooses  !  No,  sir !  I  shall  teach  her  a  lesson 
to-morrow  that  she  will  remember !....!  am  sure  she 
loves  me !  .  .  .  .  What  can  it  be  ? " 

Here  Lady,  failing  to  attract  any  attention  by  her 
gentle  caresses,  began  to  shove  her  black  nose  under  his 
elbow  and  to  raise  it  up  several  times  in  quick,  repeated 
knocks.  Then  her  master,  taking  his  fireless  pipe  from 
his  mouth,  laid  his  flushed  cheek  down  upon  her  smooth 
head,  saying,  "  Poor-  Lady  ;  good  girl,"  with  a  moisture  in 
his  blue  eyes,  that  told  he  was  much  more  grieved  than 
angered,  but,  man  like,  was  trying  to  disguise  it,  even  to 
himself,  by  a  show  of  righteous  indignation  and  high 
words. 

"  Can  it  be,"  he  ruminated,  getting  cooler,  "  that  the 
evident  preference  that  the  little  grass  widow  has  for  my 
society  can  have  macle  her  jealous  ? " 

Quite  flattered  by  this  idea,  he  raised'  his  handsome 
head,  and  leaving  the  chair  in  which  he  had  sat  so  long, 


jg  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

he  walked  to  the  window  and  stood  with  his  hands  clasped 
behind  him,  looking  out  on  the  quiet  street  and  at  the 
shadows  in  the  moonlight.  As  he  cogitated,  he  smiled  a 
little,  and  pulling  and  twisting  his  fair  moustache,  he  said, 
"No,  she  would  not  be  so  foolish."  A  pause,  another 
smile  and  lighting  of  the  eyes.  "  If  that  is  the  trouble," 
he  says,  "  she  must  know  at  once  that  a  decent-looking 
fellow  cannot  prevent  women  from  going  for  him."  Then, 
unconsciously  settling  his  neck-tie,  "  I  vow,  I  believe  that 
is  it !  Why,  she  ought  to  kjiow  that  while  a  man  cannot 
help  being  polite,  and  even  a  little  sweet,  to  a  festive  little 
female  like  the  Bangtry,  he  would  never  think  of  marrying 

her I  shall  tell  her  to-morrow  that  my  Margery  need 

fear  no  rival  in  such  a  person,  or  anywhere.  My  rare, 
fair  Margaret !  How  different  she  is  from  this  other 
woman,  whom  she  compliments  enough  to  be  jealous  of ! " 
He  threw  back  his  head.  "  Ha !  ha  !  Well !  well !  That 
is  too  much !  I'll  go  and  see  her  now.  Hum — I  think  I 
won't.  It  is  past  midnight.  Poor  dear !  I  know  how 
glad  she  will  be  to  see  me  !  I  will  run  up  before  ten  in 
the  morning.  She  will  be  freezing  at  first,  of  course  (with 
a  happy  laugh),  but  I  shall  make  her  listen  to  me,  and  she 
shall  give  me  a  kiss  before  I  leave,  or  my  name  is  not 
Felix  Plummer." 

And  so,  sending  Lady  to  her  rug  in  the  corner,  he  went 
straightway  to  bed,  where  he  was  snoring  peacefully  in 
less  than  five  minutes,  a  combination  of  good  nature,  soft- 
heartedness,  and  self-complacency  destined  to  be  consider- 
ably disturbed  by  the  events  of  the  morrow. 


FELIX.  19 

The  next  morning  Felix  Plummer'came  to  himself  and 
started  to  get  out  of  bed,  but,  oh !  dear !  how  dizzy  he 
was  !  His  eyes  ached  and  everything  looked  double.  So 
he  was  glad  to  close  them  again  ;  and,  ugh  !  how  sick  and 
faint !  His  back  and  limbs  ached  in  a  dull  and  constant 
grind,  and  to  lie  still  or  to  move  was  an  equal  agony.  In 
a  word,  our  friend  had  a  slight  bilious  attack,  and,  being  a 
man,  he  felt  sure  that  he  should  die  in  a  short  time. 
Rapping  on  the  wall  to  call  his  adjoining  neighbor,  whom 
lie  heard  whistling  as  he  squeaked  about  the  room  in  new 
shoes,  he  managed  to  stagger  to  the  door  and  admit  his 
friend.  As  he  sunk  into  a  chair  and  rested  his  poor,  snap- 
ping head  on  his  feverish  hands,  he  said  in  a  woe-begone 
voice  : 

"  Smith,  I'm  sick.  I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter 
with  me.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  send  Dr.  Good- 
hardt  up  here  when  you  go  down  town  ?  No,  no,  don't 
bother  yourself,  I  could  n't  look  at  breakfast !  Oh  !  dear  ! 
I  have  got  something  that  I  guess  will  kill  me.  Smith, 
•did  n't  poor  Brainard's  sickness  begin  like  this  ?  Oh  ! 
Lord  !  how  my  head  feels  ! " 

Smith,  who  was  a  friendly  little  fellow,  ran  down  stairs 
and  out  to  the  doctor's  office  and  had  the  medical  man  in 
poor  Felix's  room  in  a  trice.  But  the  sick  man  ungrate- 
fully growled,  "I  thought  you'd  never  get  back,"  and 
"Doctor,  I  never  was  so  sick  in  my  life." 

He  had  taken  a  small  mirror,  and  squinting  and  shading 
his  weak  eyes  with  his  hand,  was  looking  at  his  tongue 
and  at  his  sickly  face. 

"What's  the  matter,  my  boy?"  said  the  genial  doctor 


20 


WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 


:as  he  entered  the  room,  bringing  an  atmosphere  of  health 
and  good  cheer  with  him.  "Lobster  salad?  Got  a  sick 
headache  ? " 

"  Oh !  worse  than  that.  I  am  afraid  I  am  in  for  a  tough 
time.  Do  you  think  you  can  stop  the  disease  now,  doctor? 
Oh !  my  back  and  legs ! "  groaned  Felix. 

"Oh!  my  lungs  and  liver!  What  do  you  want!  Oh  I 
goroo !  goroo ! "  added  the  doctor,  laughing  heartily. 
"  Really,  Plummer,  your  exclamations  remind  me  of  the 
old  ogre  who  frightened  poor  little  Copperfield  nearly  to 
death.  Well,  well,  to  assume  the  gravity  which  your  very 
serious  case  demands,  I  rather  think  you  are  pretty  bil- 
ious. Been  getting  angry  or  uncomfortably  excited  ? 
Nothing  like  that  to  stir  up  the  bile.  Does  your  business 
plague  you  ? " 

"No,  nothing  plagues  me,"  answered  Felix,  gloomily, 
"  except  my  head  and  stomach,  and  all  my  bones.  Great 
heavens !  Now  these  bed-clothes  are  out  at  the  foot 
again,  and  my  feet  are  out  of  doors,  and  these  pillows  are 
hot,  and  this  cussed  sheet  is  all  of  a  wrinkle ! " 

Dr.  Goodhardt  shook  and  smoothed  the  pillows,  pinned 
the  edges  of  the  sheet  under  the  mattress  so  the  uneasy 
patient  could  not  rumple  them  again,  and  tucked  the 
blankets  in  firmly  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

Somewhat  comforted,  but  still  despondent,  the  demoral- 
ized individual  who  would  hardly  have  been  recognized  as 
the  debonnaire  cashier  of  the  Fourth  National  Bank,  spoke 
again  feebly. 

"  Doctor,"  he  said  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  do  not  disguise 
it  from  me.  Is  my  disease  anything  like  poor  Brainard's  ?  " 


FELIX.  2 1 

"Disease!  Ha!  ha!  "roared  the  doctor.  "Plummer, 
my  boy,  you  have* a  slight  bilious  attack;  nothing  more, 
as  far  as  I  discover,  and  you  are  so  cross,  I  think  you 
will  be  out  to-morrow.  Here,  take  this  corrective ;  give 
your  stomach  a  rest  for  a  few  -days,  and  you  will  be  all 
right.  By  the  way,  where  did  you  go  for  your  vacation  ? " 

"  Nowhere,"  said  the  young  man.  "  Only  run  down  to 
Watch  Hill  once  or  twice  over  Sunday." 

"Take  it  this  month,  then,"  ordered  the  physician. 
"  You  cannot  afford  to  neglect  to  give  yourself  a  change 
and  rest  from  the  routine  of  business.  You  may  find  you 
have  nerves,  if  you  stick  too  close  to  the  bank.  This  is 
the  finest  season  of  the  year,  and  you  must  leave  your 
work  right  where  it  is.  Remember  what  I  tell  you." 

The  doctor  departed.  The  morning  grew  to  noon. 
Our  very  unheroic  hero  had  slept  again,  and  awakened 
feeling  somewhat  better.  There  came  a  knock  at  the 
door,  and  in  response  to  his  doleful  "  Come  in,"  a  lady 
walked  briskly  into  the  room,  saying,  "  Hello,  Felix ! 
Dr.  Goodhardt  stopped  at  our  door  awhile  ago  to  tell  me 
that  you  were  sick  this  morning,  and  so  I  came  right 
down.  Dear  me !  how  yellow  you  look,"  she  said  in  a 
very  sisterly  fashion.  "  Hair,  eyes,  and  skin,  all  the  same 
color.  'Whiskers  reether  redder  than  I  could  wish/  but 
shade  in  very  well.  Bub,  you  are  a  perfect  symphony  in 
old  gold  and  copper,  and  the  white  pillows  bring  you  out 
beautifully/' 

Felix  smiled  a  little  at  this  badinage,  which  he  was  so 
accustomed  to  hear  from  his  lively,  married  sister. 

"  Kupfer  und  gold,"  he  said  musingly.     "That's  what 


22  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

they  used  to  call  my  chum  Farnham  and  me  at  Yale.  He 
was  a  royal  good  fellow,  with  reddish  hair,  and  we  were 
inseparable.  But  I  say,  Sis,  don't  throw  any  more  Dickens, 
at  me.  This  is  the  second  dose  I  have  got  this  morning. 
I  believe  Dr.  Goodhardt  would  quote  it  if  everybody  was- 
dying,"  he  continued,  a  little  resentfully. 

"  Except  himself,"  added  his  sister.  "  Yes,  I  believe  he 
would.  By  the  way,  Felix,"  she  said  abruptly,  "where's 
Margery  gone  ? " 

His  fretful  languor  vanished,  and  a  rush  of  crimson 
blood  colored  his  face. 

"  I  stopped  at  the  house  as  I  came  along,  to  tell  her  to- 
come  down  and  see  you  after  I  had  got  you  fixed  up  a 
little,"  pursued  his  sister,  "  but  Betsy  said  she  had  gone 
away,  and  would  be  out  of  town  several  weeks." 

"Gone  away!"  gasped  the  dismayed  lover.  "Bosh, 
impossible  !  She  was  home  late  last  night.  The  girl  is  a 
fool !  Gone  several  weeks,"  he  repeated  incredulously. 
"  I  know  better !  But  why  did  you  not  ask  where  she  had 
gone  ? "  he  demanded  querulously. 

"  I  did,  and  she  said  she  did  not  know  where." 

Felix  answered  nothing,  but  buried  his  face  in  his 
pillow,  until  his  sister  said,  gently  resting  her  cool  hand 
on  his  hot  head,  "  Brother,  is  there  any  trouble  between 
you  and  Margie  ?  "  I  should  regret  such  a  thing  exceed- 
ingly, because  I  love  and  respect  her  already  as  a  dear 
sister,  and  I  should  fear  .that  you  were  in  some  way  to 
blame." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  to  blame,"  protested  the  young  man, 
quickly  turning  to  face  her.  "I  don't  even  know  what 
it's  about." 


FELIX.  23 

"  Then  there  is  trouble,"  said  the  lady,  sadly. 

"Yes,  there  is,  Sis,"  responded  her  brother;  "and  if 
you,  another  woman,  can  tell  me  wherein  I  have  done 
anything  to  offend  her,  or  give  any  explanation  of  such 
unnatural  capriciousness,  I  will  thank  you  to  do  it." 

He  then  rehearsed  the  events  of  the  previous  day  and 
evening,  and  cried  at  last,  with  an  air  of  abused  virtue, 
"  Now  tell  me  what  I  have  done  !  She  is  getting  fickle, 
like  other  girls.  They  are  all  changeable  as  the  wind.  I 
thought  Margery  was  an  exception,  but  I  have  been  a 
fond  fool !  They  can't  appreciate  true  love !  They  are 
too  full  of  flirtation  and  vanity  !  " 

Apparently  not  much  relieved  by  this  sweeping  tirade, 
poor  Felix  sat  disconsolately  up  in  bed  and  reached  out 
for  a  glass  of  water  which  the  doctor  had  left  on  the  stand 
by  its  side.  His  sister  quickly  arose  and  handed  him  the 
glass,  but  said  nothing  until  she  had  returned  it  to  the 
little  table. 

"Felix,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  but  looking  him  straight 
in  the  face,  "  you  were  late  at  Margery's  party  last  even- 
ing, because  you  went  to  see  Mrs.  Bangtry  home." 

"  Yes,  but  what  of  that  ?  Can't  a  man  be  decently 
polite  to  —  " 

"  Are  you  aware  that  you  have  been  classed  as  one  of 
this  lady's  admirers  ? " 

A  flush  rose  to  his  sallow  cheek  and  he  opened  his 
mouth  to  speak,  but  she  continued : 

"  It  has  happened  that  you  have  been  walking  with  her 
often,  and  at  times  when  every  one  was  on  the  street ;  you 
have,  once,  at  least,  taken  her  into  your  buggy ;  you  have 
carried  books  to  her  house  ;  and  —  " 


24  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

"  Stop  !  I  can  explain  all  those  !     I  — 

"Very  likely,  Felix;  but  explain  them  to  Margery,  not 
to  me,"  said  his  sister,  raising  her  hand.  "To  put  the 
thing  in  a  nutshell,  Mrs.  Bangtry  has  flattered  you.  You 
have  been  pleased  by  her  attentions,  and  your  better  judg« 
ment  dulled.  I  may  as  well  tell  you,  furthermore,  that 
people  are  saying  that  Margery  is  getting  left.  She  has 
doubtless  heard  something  of  this,  and  you  can  see  that  it 
needed  only  the  last  little  drop,  of  last  evening's  happen^ 
ing,  to  overrun  her  cup  of  indignation." 

"  Could  it  have  been  such  a  thing,  and  Margery  never 
spoke  of  it  to  me  ? "  wondered  the  now  somewhat  con- 
science-stricken young  man. 

"I  am  convinced  of  it,"  rejoined  his  sister.  "A  woman 
of  her  pride  and  strength  of  character,  Felix,  is  not  likely 
to  upbraid  a  man  for  preferring  some  one  else  to  her." 

"I  have  never  preferred  any  one  to  Margery,  and  she 
ought  to  have  faith  enough  in  me  not  to  notice  the 
dastardly  insinuations  of  contemptible  busy-bodies.  You 
know  how  it  is,  Sis ;  a  man  cannot  treat  any  lady  un- 
kindly—  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  just  how  it  is,  Felix.  Every  man  with 
any  claims  to  good  looks  —  and  you  have  some  of  the 
family  beauty,"  said  she,  eyeing  him  quizzically,  "  is  insuf- 
ferably conceited.  Let  him  meet  any  woman  like  this  gay 
widow-by-grace,  and  if  she  looks  trustingly  in  his  eyes  a 
few  times,  asks  information  upon  money  matters,  and 
seeks  his  opinions  upon  literature  or  art,  tells  him  how 
she  admires  large  men  (or  light,  or  dark,  or  anything  to 
fit  the  case),  confides  a  secret  to  his  honorable  keeping, 


FELIX.  "27 

occasionally  passes  very  near  to  him  during  an  interesting 
interview,  gives  him  the  breath  of  her  perfumed  hair, 
and  brushes  \ho;  froti-frou  of  her  silken  skirts  across  his 
tingling  feet  —  " 

"  Sis,  you  are  too  bad  !  Get  a  man  sick  in  bed  and 
abuse  him  like  this !  You  know  I  would  never  dream  of 
making  love  to  her ! "  indignantly  remonstrated  Felix. 

"  I  know  it ;  but  for  such  a  woman's  society  a  man  will 
neglect  his  artless  fiancee,  draw  disparaging  comparisons 
between  his  sister's  style  of  hair,  and  her  more  theatrical 
get-up — " 

"  I  knew  you'd  never  forgive  me  that !  " 

"  Don't  interrupt  me !  Snub  his  brother-in-law  who- 
ventures  a  warning  word,  get  himself  on  the  list  of  her 
lovers,  and  think  it  is  all  right,  if  he  only  assures  his 
friends  that  he  would  never  think  of  martying  her!" 
Felix  winced.  "Why,  Bub,  she  would  never  think  of 
marrying  you!  If  her  husband  does  not  reappear,  she 
will  marry  old  Brown.  A  golden  mustache  looks  well 
beside  her  dark  eyes  on  the  street,  but  ducats,  my  dear, 
gold  dollars,  are  what  she  will  marry.  Now,  if  you  con- 
sider your  present  position  (in  society,  I  mean)  dignified, 
why,  continue  it,  though  your  family  will  regret  it.  If 
not,  find  Margery,  and  be  a  sensible  fellow  once  more." 

Felix  sat  in  bed  with  his  knees  drawn  up,  his  hands 
clasped  around  them,  resting  his  chin  upon  them,  as  he 
regarded  his  sister  while  she  spoke.  When  she  had  ceased, 
he  bowed  his  tousled  head  and  said  not  a  word  for  some 
time. 

Mrs.  Burton  arose  and  busied  herself  in  replacing  and 


2g  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

packing  up  some  books.  Felix  raised  his  head  at  last, 
and,  speaking  in  a  pitifully  dejected  manner,  he  said: 
"  Sis,  do  you  think  —  if  I  have  been  such  an  ass,  such  a 
villain,  as  you  make  me  out,  that  Margery  will  ever  forget 
it  ?  She  may  forgive  me,  but  will  she  forget  it  ?  Won't 
she  tell  me  of  it  all  my  life  ?  I  could  never  bear  that !  " 

"His  sister  smiled,  consciously,  "she  might"  she  said, 
"if  you  were  ever  likely  to  repeat  the  experience." 


The  humbled  suitor  sought  his  loved  one's  door  the  next 
day,  only  to  receive  in  answer  to  his  inquiry  for  Margery, 
"  She's  gone  away,  sir." 

Where?     "I  don't  know,  sir." 

Then,  well-nigh  bursting  with  surprise,  rage,  and  grief, 
but  trying  to  preserve  his  usual  equanimity,  he  went  to 
the  office  of  Mr.  Prescott  and  found,  "  He  had  just  gone  to 
New  York,  sir." 


CHAPTER  III. 


SCENE. — The  Prescott's  breakfast  room. 
Margery,  more  than  usually  excited  and  brilliant. 
Her  father,  tender,  thoughtful,  and  complacent. 

MARGERY  kissed  her  father  warmly,  as  she  entered 
the  breakfast-room  the  morning  after  the  party. 
She  hovered  caressingly  around  him,  as  if  to  charm  him 
by  her  magnetism  into  acquiesence  with  all  her  plans.  She 
had  just  mentally  framed  a  very  nice  way  of  telling  him  of 
her  desire  to  leave  him  alone  for  a  short  time,  a  few  days  — 
a  week  or  ten  days  —  it  might  be  a  fortnight  —  and  of  her 
plans,  which  were  all  formed,  between  the  fitful  slumbers 
of  the  previous  night.  But  she  waited.  He  seemed  about 
to  speak.  He  laid  his  hand  upon  some  letters  by  his  side 
— freshly-opened  letters  from  the  morning  mail.  He 
gazed  abstractedly  at  her  a  moment,  and  the  current  of 
his  thoughts  turned  from  his  business  to  her. 

"  What  is  it,  pet  ?  Your  eyes  and  cheeks  are  as  bright 
as  the  sunshine !  You  have  some  scheme  on  hand  that 
your  mind  is  full  of,  I'll  warrant." 

"  Yes,  papa  dear.  I  want  to  go  off  on  a  little  excursion 
with  Mahala  Wright.  I  received  a  note  from  her  yesterday. 

(.29) 


^~.  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

0° 

She  talked  of  the  plan  the  other  day  when  she  called,  but 
I  did  not  give  it  much  attention,  as  I  was  thinking  of 
other  things.  We  want  to  go  on  our  wheels  a  little  trip 
down  the  river." 

"  What !     You  two  alone  ?  or  is  Felix  — " 

"Oh  no!"  interrupted  Margery,  "not  we  two  alone, 
Mrs.  Mather  and  Miss  St.  John  are  to  be  of  the  party,  four 
of  us." 

"  Well,  I  thought  Mahala  rather  wild  to  take  care  of 
you,"  said  her  father,  "and  you  surely  are  too  young  to 
chaperone  her! " 

"  You  understand,  papa,  that  her  aunt,  Miss  St.  John,  is 
in  the  habit  of  going  off  on  her  tricycle  on  sketching  trips. 
She  is  going  again  this  week.  So,  it  is  a  capital  chance 
for  a  novel  jaunt  for  us  all.  Now  papa,  you  know  nearly 
every  one  down  the  river,  and  with  letters  from  you,  we 
would  get  along  splendidly !  Mike  writes  that  Joe  wants 
to  go  too.  You  know  he  goes  everywhere  with  her. 
Such  a  devoted  brother !  But  we  don't  want  any  gentle- 
men along.  It  would  spoil  half  our  fun.  We  want  just 
ourselves.  I  have  always  taken  care  of  myself,  papa,  and 
never  had  any  trouble." 

"  Yes,  my  dear.  I  sometimes  wish  you  had  a  sister,  and 
were  not  so  much  alone,"  responded  he,  thoughtfully, 
"  But  won  't  Felix  —  " 

"  Felix  need  have  nothing  to  say  about  it,  if  you  agree, 
papa."  A  slight  color  came  to  her  face  as  she  said  this. 

"Well,"  slowly  spoke  her  father,  "it  may  be  the  best 
thing,  for  I  have  letters  here,  which  will  necessitate  my 
leaving  you,  for  perhaps  even  a  longer  period  than  you 


THE  PLAN.  21 

propose  being  absent.  I  do  not  like  leaving  you  here  alone 
with  Betsy  and  John.  Very  safe,  but  not  very  enlivening 
companions." 

Margery  quickly  answered,  "  Oh,  if  you  want  to  stay 
longer,  papa,  and  think  I  had  better  not  be  here "  (a  for- 
tunate idea,  she  thought),  "Mahala  will  let  me  stay  with 
her  till  you  return.  Mrs.  Wright  is  always  so  kind  in 
urging  me  to  go  there.  She  says  no  one  can  keep  Mike 
in  order  so  well  as  Margery  Prescott." 

"  But  how  will  you  manage  about  clothing,  my  girl  ? 
You  cannot  live  three  weeks  in  a  wheel-suit  Though," 
he  added,  "  I  never  saw  you  in  a  more  becoming  rig  than 
that  last  new  gray." 

"  Yes,  is  it  not  neat  ? "  said  Margery,  much  pleased  to 
see  her  father  appreciate  a  creation  that  had  given  her 
some  anxiety.  "  Mike  and  I  put  our  heads  together  over 
those  suits.  The  others  are  just  like  mine.  In  fact,  we 
expect  this  style  will  be  adopted  by  the  club.  I  am  so 
glad  you  like  it,  papa.  Oh,  we  shall  get  along  nicely  with 
one  large  trunk,"  continued  she.  "  Express  it  to  any  point 
where  we  wish  to  stay  a  day  or  two.  We  shall  not  want  to 
ride  all  the  time,  you  know.  Now,  papa,  you  make  us  a 
list  of  the  best  stopping  places  and  points  of  interest ; 
those  old  farm-houses  of  which  you  are  always  telling,  and 
country  taverns  where  we  can  stop  for  dinner.  If  you 
write  them  out  we  will  make  no  mistake." 

Betsy  now  laid  the  steaming  breakfast  upon  the  table. 
Margery  proceeded  to  pour  the  coffee  for  her  father,  who 
declared  again  that  no  cup  was  ever  quite  as  delicious  as 
hers. 


22  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

Mr.  Prescott  had  drawn  out  a  little  plan  of  the  river 
towns.  Giving  it  a  few  more  touches  and  taking  the  cup 
of  fragrant  coffee  from  her  hand,  he  said,  "  Here  is  a  list 
of  the  places  you  'd  better  make  your  points  of  rest.  I 
will  telegraph  to  three  —  the  three  underscored  —  so  there 
will  be  no  trouble  about  your  reception.  You,  yourself, 
have  been  with  me  at  several  of  these  places.  There  you 
of  course  will  be  known.  Miss  St.  John  visits  in  Crom- 
well, and  Mrs.  Mather  has  relatives  in  Essex.  They  will 
not  be  at  a  loss,  I  am  sure,  to  make  up  any  deficiencies  in 
this  list,  both  having  friends  and  acquaintances  along  the 
river.  But,  daughter,"  said  he,  as  he  cracked  an  egg- 
shell, "  when  you  are  ready  to  return,  had  you  not  better 
take  the  boat  and  come  directly  home  ?  To  retrace  one's 
way  is  often  tedious.  And  probably  you  will  by  that  time 
have  had  quite  enough  of  wheeling." 

"  You  are  right,  papa,  as  you  always  are.  I  am  glad  you 
suggested  that  idea.  So  then  we  can  ride  as  far  as  we  like 
without  a  thought  of  the  coming  home.  I  will  tell  the 
girls  about  it." 

"  Well,  now,  my  dear,  how  long  will  it  take  you  to  get 
ready  ? " 

"How  long?     Why?" 

"Because,  Margie,  I  must  leave  you  before  noon.  If 
you  can  be  ready  in  an  hour — think  you  can  ? — John  can 
drive  you  to  Judge  Wright's,  with  your  trunk.  The  'cycle 
can  be  taken  to  you  this  evening,  and  you  will  be  ready  if 
the  rest  are,  for  your  trip  at  once." 

"Yes,  we  can  be  off  to-morrow,  I  am  sure,"  exclaimed 
Margery,  excitedly,  "because  they  are  only  waiting  for  me. 
Then,  papa,  I  will  write  you — at  what  point?" 


THE  PLAN.  23 

"At  New  York,  to-night.  Give  your  letter  to  John,  to 
post  on  the  midnight  train,  so  I  will  get  it  before  starting 
west.  Telegraph  to  this  address  in  Chicago" — he  took 
out  a  card  and  wrote  on  it — "in  case  of  any  accident.  If 
all  goes  well  you  can  write  me  there,  and  it  will  be  for- 
warded to  me.  Now  eat  your  breakfast,  dear;  you  have 
scarcely  swallowed  a  morsel." 

"Oh!  I  have  eaten  a  great  deal.  I  have  finished  now," 
said  the  girl,  swallowing  her  coffee  in  haste.  "I  will  be 
ready  in  half  an  hour,  you  see  if  I  am  not,"  and  she  ran 
nervously  out  of  the  room.  The  packing  was  soon  dis- 
patched, the  gray  suit  laid  carefully  on  toj^  to  be  worn  for 
the  first  time  on  the  morrow.  Her  hands  trembled  in  her 
haste,  especially  when  she  took  out  her  box  of  jewelry  and 
she  saw  the  discarded  ring  glitter  in  the  darkness.  But 
she  would  not  think.  "  I  must  hand  this  to  papa  for  the 
safe,"  she  said.  She  pulled  out,  folded  up,  and  tucked 
away,  in  unfaltering  determination.  She  pressed  the  disk 
which  rang  the  bell  for  her  maid,  in  whose  care  she  left 
the  room  for  re-arrangement.  She  gave  the  girl  permis- 
sion to  go  to  her  home  during  her  absence.  Only  Betsy' 
and  John  need  stay  to  care  for  the  house.  Margery 
evaded  any  direct  reply  to  the  girl's  questions,  merely 
saying  she  might  be  gone  two  or  three  weeks.  "I  will 
send  you  word,  Susan,  when  I  return.  Take  care  of  your- 
self and  have  a  good  time,  while  I  am  away."  "Well, 
indeed,  Miss  Margery,  I'd  rather  you  stayed  at  home, 
inself,"  answered  the  faithful  creature. 

Margery  snatched  her  gloves  and  sped  down  stairs  as 
she  heard  the  carriage  coming  around.  She  was  flying 
from  him  !  Faithless!  Trifling!  She  must  get  away. 


,4  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

In  tight  embrace  her  father  kissed  her,  once  and  again. 
She  was  all  to  him — all  he  had  left.  She  seemed  a  little 
tremulous  and  nervous,  but  she  was  tired  with  her  party 
and  these  hurried  preparations.  This  trip  would  do  her 
good.  ' 

Mr.  Prescott  put  her  into  the  carriage,  telling  John  to 
return  for  him  as  quickly  as  possible. 

An  hour  later,  while  Mr.  Prescott  was  arranging  busi- 
ness to  take  the  fast  train  for  the  metropolis,  Margery  sat 
in  Mahala  Wright's  sitting-room,  hearing  of  all  the  plans 
for  the  anticipated  trip.  She  produced  her  father's  direc- 
tions, which  she^had  placed  in  her  little  satchel,  and  read 
them  excitedly  to  her  friend. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


SCENE. — Evening  in  Mrs.  Wright's  well-lighted  reception-room. 

Mahala  poses,  with  both  elbows  on  center-table.  She  complacently 
regards  her  friends. 

Mrs.  Julie  Mather  stands  near,  embraced  by  Margery. 

Aunt  Dude  (otherwise  Miss  Lucy  St.  John),  coming  across  the 
room,  essays  to  get  a  peep  at  the  folio  which  lies  before  her  niece. 

Mahala  instantly  covers  it  with  both  hands,  and  mskes  an  impudent 
face  at  her  aunt. 

MAHALA.     " Now,  everybody  sit  down."     They  take 
chairs.     "I  say,  these  rules  have  to  be  implicitly 
obeyed ;  or  the  party  is  non  est." 
AUNT  DUDE      "  Go  on." 

MAHALA.  "Rule  first,  then,  received  with  no  objec- 
tion ?"  looking  with  questioning  air  at  each  individual. 

"Rule  second.  Each  member  of  this  party  shall  con- 
sider herself  for  the  time  being  as  belonging  solely  and 
exclusively  to  this  party.  No  outside  interest  shall  rival 
that  of  this  party,  which  compels  the  exclusive  devotion 
of  each  and  every  individual  to  the  amusement  and  diver- 
sion of  the  party  collectively.  Sworn  ? " 
ALL.  "  No  objections.  All  right." 

(3.0 


2  6  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

MAHALA.  "  Rule  third.  On  meeting  with  other  parties 
or  individuals  en  route,  no  communication  whatever  must 
be  made." 

JULIE.     "But,  Mike — " 

MAHALA.  "  No  interruptions."  Reading  again.  "  On 
occasion,  each  member  shall  simulate  deafness,  by  raising 
the  right  hand  to  the  right  ear,  and  inclining  the  body. 
If  chaperone  number  one  or  number  two  judge  best  to  ask 
'  what  ? '  then  all  three  shall  repeat  '  what  ? '  in  a  louder 
tone.  If  chaperone  chooses  after  that  to  hold  further  con- 
versation, it  will  be  allowed." 

Great  laughter  and  cries  of  "  Oh !  Mike !  what  an 
idea  !  "  and  so  forth. 

MAHALA.     Stamping  her  foot.     "  Swear ! " 

THE  TRIO.     "  Well,  sworn ! " 

MAHALA.  "  Rule  fifth.  Each  member  shall  carry  blue 
eye-glasses  (already  provided  by  Miss  Wright)  which, 
under  any  embarrassing  circumstances  shall  be  immedi- 
ately placed  upon  the  bridge  of  the  nose." 

ALL,     "  Sworn  !  " 

MAHALA.     "  Rule  sixth.     One  good  pistol — " 

MRS.  MATHER.     "  Yes,  I  have  one." 

MAHALA.  "  Silence !  That  one  good  pistol  shall  be 
carried  by  chaperone  number  one.  Also  that  three  large 
toy  pistols,  unloaded  (already  provided  by  Miss  Wright), 
shall  be  visible  upon  three  other  members.  Any  objec- 
tions ? " 

ALL.     "None — no"     Laughter. 

MAHALA.  "Rule  seventh.  One  tin  horn,  small  size,  to- 
be  carried  by  Mahala  Wright  concealed  in  the  folds  of  her 


RULES  AND  REGULATIONS.  ?y 

•dress.  Small  ivory  whistles  (also  provided)  to  be  worn  by 
other  members  for  convenience  in  calling  the  party 
together  in  case  of  any  separation." 

MARGERY.  "  For  instance,  when  the  artist  stops  for  an 
impression,  or  Mike  pursues  a  specimen." 

MAIIALA.  "  Rule  eighth.  At  hotels  and  farm-houses, 
no  one  will  be  allowed  to  form  any  acquaintance,  except 
that  of  host  or  family  of  host." 

ALL.     "  Agreed." 

MAHALA.  "  Rule  ninth.  Letters  to  be  written  on 
Sundays  only.  No  posting  except  on  Mondays." 

Demurs  from  Mrs.  Mather,  who  turns  appealingly  to 
Margery.  Margery  flushed  and  looked  away. 

MAHALA.  Coming  down  with  great  suddenness  from 
her  administrative  tone.  "  Oh  !  Yes  !  I  know  how  it  will 
be !  Just  how  it  will  be !  When  I  want  some  fun  and 
entertainment,  you  and  Margery  will  be  scribbling  to  your 
devoted  highnesses'  devoted  lover  and  husband.  I've 
been  there  before !  '  Now  don't — now,  please  keep  quiet 
— I  want  to  write,'  etc.,  etc.  Letters  on  Sundays  only  ! 
Swear  one  and  all.  I  insist  upon  it!" 

"  Sworn  ! " 

A  wicked  twinkle  comes  into  Mrs.  Mather's  eye.  She 
.gives  Margery's  hand  a  little  squeeze. 

"  I  guess  we  shall  get  along,"  she  whispers. 

MAHALA.  "  Nine  rules  !  Now  give  me  your  hands  on 
this,  and  we  '11  be  off  to-morrow  at  eight  o'clock ! 

TABLEAU.  All  stand  around  the  centre-table.  Hands 
•clasped. 

Good  night. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE  meeting  of  the  quartette  the  following  morning, 
at  Judge  Wright's  door,  was,  according  to  agreement, 
at  an  early  hour.  At  eight  o'clock,  after  much  preliminary 
activity  on  the  part  of  the  four  friends,  which  we  will  leave 
to  the  imagination  of  those  who  have  undertaken  similar 
excursions,  the  party  was  ready  to  start.  They  wore  the 
gray  cloth  suits  tastefully  trimmed  with  black  braid  which 
edged  the  plaitings  around  the  full  skirts,  adorned  the 
collar,  cuffs,  and  flaps  of  the  jaunty  postilion  basques,  and 
met  in  frogs  across  the  front  of  the  perfect-fitting  waists ; 
black  poke  hats,  the  severity  of  which  was  relieved  by 
various  short,  curling  feathers,  which  were  massed  on  one 
side  toward  the  front ;  and  black  kid  gloves  drawn  up  over 
the  close  wrists  of  the  sleeves. 

Their  blue  glasses,  which  were  not  without  practical 
utility  in  an  out-of-door  life  of  whole  days  in  the  dazzling 
sunshine,  were  attached  to  a  black  cord  which  encircled 
the  neck. 

The  butts  of  four  pistols  peeped  out  of  small  pockets  on 
the  hips,  and  which  one  carried  the  real,  defensive  weapon,, 

(33) 


THE  START.  ,Q 

and  who  the  toy  imitations,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to 
decide. 

Small  silk  umbrellas,  folded  in  smooth  cases,  were  fast- 
ened to  the  handle  on  the  left  side  of  the  tricycles. 

Judge  and  Mrs.  Wright  and  the  boys  were  interested 
assistants  in  the  preparations,  and  interspersed  their  con- 
sultations with  advice,  cautions,  and  injunctions,  which  the 
wheelers  did  well  to  remember  on  subsequent  occasions. 

Miss  St.  John  was  diligently  engaged  in  strapping  her 
sketching  apparatus  on  behind  the  saddle  of  her  machine. 
Her  artistic  traveling  outfit  comprised  a  light  camp-stool, 
a  box  of  water  colors,  a  case  of  pencils  and  brushes,  and  a 
pad  of  paper. 

These  would  be  sufficient  to  enable  her  to  catch  any 
choice  bit  by  the  way.  Her  oils,  canvas,  folding  easel, 
etc.,  she  had  placed  in  the  trunk.  She  could  only  use 
these  to  advantage  when  she  had  time  to  work  out  an 
idea. 

Margery  had  several  paper-covered  books  of  light  fiction 
attached  in  a  roll  to  her  saddle,  and  stood,  tall  and  fair, 
chatting  gracefully  with  Judge  Wright,  as  she  drew  on 
her  gloves.  Mahala,  closely  superintended  by  her  older 
brother,  made  ready  a  box  for  butterflies,  and  tied  a  net 
on  to  her  tricycle. 

"  Now  do  be  careful,  Mike,  if  you  get  anything  nice,  not 
to  break  its  wings.  Remember  to  look  for  a  lunar  moth 
on  the  trunk  of  some  tree  in  the  woods.  It  is  getting  late 
for  all  moths  and  butterflies,  so  secure  all  you  can  before 
the  first  frost  comes.  This  bottle  of  cyanide  you  must  be 
careful  about,  as  it  is  deadly  poison.  Tell  them  all  about 
it,"  said  her  good  brother  Joe. 


.Q  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

"  Yes,"  spoke  up  Frank,  who  was  standing  on  the  curb- 
stone with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  looking  on  enviously 
at  the  busy  scene ;  "  if  you  don't,  they  may  be  putting  it 
on  to  their  faces  for  lily  white  ! " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  lily  white  ? "  retorted  Mahala. 
"  Boys  of  fourteen  should  be  seen  and  not  heard.  Don't 
you  wish  you  could  go,  Bubby,  dear?"  she  said  tantaliz- 
ingly,  giving  his  nose  an  .exasperating  little  tweak.  "  But 
it  must  stay  at  home,  'cause  it 's  too  little,"  and  she  ran 
briskly  into  the  house. 

"Humph!"  he  called  after  her;  "I  can  travel  right 
around  you  on  my  bicycle !  I  would  not  go  on  such  a 
slow  trip,  anyhow  !  " 

"Well,  I  would,"  said  Joe,  "if  they  would  let  me.  I  am 
only  provoked  that  we  fellows  had  not  thought  of  it  first." 

"There  is  no  copyright  on  the  idea,  Joe,"  said  Margery, 
smiling  at  him. 

Mahala  ran  down  the  steps.  "  I  came  very  near  for- 
getting those  insect-pins,  Joe,"  she  said,  as  she  opened 
the  box  and  placed  the  paper  and  the  wide-nosed  bottle 
within. 

"  I  say,  Mike  "  (again  .Frank),  "  don't  those  thick  boots 
make  your  feet  look  awfully  big?"  Her  particular  pride 
was  a  dainty  foot,  and  he  knew  it. 

"  Do  they,  Joe  ?  Mamma !  Are  these  boots  very  clumsy  ? 
I  was  afraid  they  were,  when  I  got  them,  but  —  " 

"  No ;  they  are  very  neat  and  sensible,  dear.  Don't 
mind  him,"  quickly  answered  Joe. 

"Frank,  be  quiet,"  said  his  mother. 

"Let   her  call  me  'Bubby,'  then,  that's  all,"  and  the 


THE  START. 


43 


young  gentleman  grinned  and  gave  his  head  a  threatening 
shake. 

Meanwhile,  a  portly,  middle-aged  gentleman  was  hold- 
ing the 


Math- 
er, and 
talking 
earnest- 

"  Be  very 
careful     and 
not  take  cold, 
Julie ;  and  if 
you  see  the  least 
cause  to  fear  any 
tramp,  use  your  pis- 
tol.    Don't  hesitate 
a    moment.       Shoot 
one  as  you  would  a 
mad  dog,  if  he  offers 
molest    you.     I    am 
almost  sorry  that  I  con- 
sented to  your  going.     If 
anything    should    befall 
you  —  " 

"  I  would  not  think  of 
going,  Fred,  if  you  were  not  to  be  away,"  answered  his 
wife ;  "  but  this  trip  will  serve  to  pass  away  the  time  until 
your  return.  I  will  write  you  at  every  possible  point." 


AA  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

44 

"  Do,  dear ;  and  be  sure  to  send  to  the  post-office  at  all 
your  stopping-places." 

"Do  you  think  you  need  to  tell  me  that?"  said  Julie, 
archly. 

Mr.  Mather  raised  his  hat  to  the  other  ladies  as  they 
mounted  their  tricycles,  and  turned  again  to  kiss  his  wife. 
She  looked  sadly  back  at  his  retreating  figure  as  she  laid 
her  hand  on  her  wheel,  and  waved  a  farewell  with  her 
handkerchief,  as  he  stopped  to  look  back.  Then  she 
quickly  took  her  seat. 

"Well,  girls,  are  we  away?"  she  said  in  her  cheery 
voice,  looking  around. 

"All  away ! "  they  answered,  and  she  pressed  the  treadles 
and  sped  along  the  street.  A  confusion  of  cries  followed 
them  as  they  left. 

"Good-by,  good-by." 

"Be  careful,  Mahala,  dear." 

"Get  some  nice  pictures,  Dude!" 

"Good-by,  Miss  Margery." 

"  Look  out  and  not  make  a  mistake  about  that  face- 
powder,  now!" 

Mrs.  Mather  turned  once  again  to  catch  another  glimpse 
of  her  husband  just  as  they  turned  the  corner,  and  the 
flutter  of  her  bright  handkerchief  was  the  last  thing  he  saw. 

In  a  short  time  they  were  well  through  the  town  and 
coming  to  the  hill  which  rises  to  the  colleges.  Here 
occurred  the  first  annoyance,  which,  indeed,  they  scarcely 
minded,  being  used  to  various  expressions  of  surprise  at 
their  comparatively  new  mode  of  locomotion.  Passers  by 
the  way,  who  saw  the  tricycles  for  the  first  time,  often 


THE  START 


45 

gave  expression  to  their  ideas  about  them  in  more  or  less 
complimentary  language.  As  they  ran  smoothly  along 
the  macadamized  streets,  laughing  and  talking  blithely, 


full  of  pleasant  anticipations,  and  enjoying  to  the  utmost 
every  moment  in  the  invigorating  air  and  genial  sunshine, 
they  scarcely  noticed  a  company  of  boys,  who,  "with  shin- 


4g  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

ing  morning  faces,"  and  straps  of  books  dangling  from 
their  hands  or  slung  over  their  shoulders,  came  noisily 
trudging  to  school,  earnestly  discussing  the  affairs  of  life 
which  are  so  absorbing  and  important  to  them.  They 
were  all  well-dressed,  and  most  of  them  were  at  that  age 
when  they  have  passed  their  usefulness  as  pets,  but  have 
not  yet  grown  into  the  innate  sense  of  honor  and  gen- 
erosity which  ennobles  most  young  men  in  their  conduct 
towards  ladies.  Suddenly,  one  saw  the  riders  approach. 
He  gave  the  word  to  the  others,  and  they  all  stopped  to 
better  realize  the  unusual  sight. 

"  Oh,  fellers ! "  cried  he,  ."see  the  women's  righters  !  " 

"Oh-h!  Oh!"  chimed  the  party,  in  derision. 

"Hullo,  Susan  Anthony!" 

"How  are  you,  Susan  B.  ?" 

"  When  are  you  going  to  vote  ?     Sa-ay ! " 

While  almost  deafened  by  the  din,  the  ladies  could  not 
keep  from  smiling,  but  Miss  St.  John  was  seen  to  exclaim 
(they  could  only  see  the  working  of  her  mouth)  that  she 
would  like  to  teach  them  better  manners.  But  all  at  once 
the  jeering  ceased — the  stillness  was  almost  painful.  A 
natty  little  fellow  of  fifteen  had  made  himself  heard  over 
all.  He  had  to  jam  the  hat  of  one  of  the  more  earnest 
vociferators  down  over  his  eyes  with  a  crushing  blow  to 
secure  his  attention,  and  ordered:  "Shut  up!  Stop  your 
infernal  noise,  I  say!  That's  Frank  Wright's  sister! 
Keep  still,  will  you?"  And  having  effectually  quelled  the 
riot,  he  raised  his  hat,  with  reddening  cheeks,  in  response 
to  a  bright  little  bow  from  Mahala,  who  said,  "Thank  you, 
Harry,"  and  cast  such  a  look  of  pitying  contempt  at  the 


THE  START.  ^ 

insulting  boys  that  they  began  to  have  business  somewhere 
else  at  once.  They  became  much  interested  in  something 
over  the  fence,  and  passed  on  in  haste. 

While  the  tricycle  party,  having  dismounted,  were  push- 
ing their  light  machines  up  the  hill,  Miss  St.  John,  who 
had  been  walking  ahead  for  some  time  in  silence,  turned 
to  her  friends. 

"What  a  bold  and  unbecoming  thing  it  seems  to  be  a 
'woman's  righter'!"  she  said,  repeating  the  term  used  by 
the  derisive  juveniles.  "How  even  the  masculine  youth 
resent  the  slightest  innovation  upon  what  they  consider 
their  exclusive  rights!" 

"  Ah,  but  we  have  taken  the  right  to  dress  sensibly,  to 
walk,  and  skate,  and  row,  and  swim,"  said  her  niece,  "  and 
they  will  soon  all  get  used  to  our  using  the  tricycle." 

"Yes,  they  will,  of  course,"  assented  Miss  St.  John, 
"but  how  truly  they  sense  the  tendency  of  all  these 
emancipations  from  indolence  and  inefficiency.  Their 
very  ire  shows  their  selfish  fear  of  the  result  of  a  healthier 
condition  of  mind  and  body  in  women." 

Mrs.  Mather  said  she  did  not  believe  boys  gave  the  sub- 
ject much  thought. 

"  It  is  bred  in  their  bones,"  retorted  the  lady,  "  and 
fostered  from  the  first  minute  when  th'ey  discover  that 
Sister  cannot  do  this  and  that  because  she  is  a  girl.  If 
so  many  girls  were  not  spoiled  in  bringing  up,  one  great 
obstacle  to  the  coming  era  would  be  done  away  with." 

"  You  mean — "  began  Mrs.  Mather,  hesitatingly. 

"  I  mean  the  duties  and  privileges  of  full  citizenship," 
declared  the  artist.  "I  do  not  often  say  this  aloud, 


4 g  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

because  it  is  at  present  rather  unpopular,  and  especially  so 
in  an  unmarried  woman." 

Mrs.  Mather  raised  her  eyebrows  dubiously.  "  Women 
seem  to  be  gaining  admittance  to  the  professions,"  she 
said.  "  They  can  select  any  work  for  themselves,  and  if 
they  have  a  strong  purpose  and  persevere,  they  can 
achieve  a  modicum  of  success  which  is  due  to  their 
abilities  and  not  in  any  way  precluded  by  their  sex.  I 
really  do  not  see  that  to  vote  is  at  all  necessary  to  their 
happiness  or  advancement." 

"  It  is  not  strange  that  you  do  not,  who  live  and  move 
and  have  your  being  in  your  husband's  love.  You  are 
evidently  so  enervated  by  the  balmy  atmosphere  of  his 
protection  that  you  do  not  care  to  trouble  your  contented 
heart  with  these  problems." 

"Well,  really,  Dude,"  answered  the  matron,  "I  do  not 
quite  know  whether  to  consider  that  remark  as  compli- 
mentary or  not." 

"You  must  judge  it  from  your  own  standpoint,"  said 
the  other,  laughing,  "  but  is  it  not  true  ? " 

"Yes,  it  is,"  acknowledged  the  loving  wife.  "I  try 
sometimes  to  brace  up  to  it  and  to  look  discriminatingly 
into  the  question  for  the  sake  of  other  unfortunate  and 
lonely  women,  but  I  cannot  yet  see  how  the  franchise 
is  to  help  them." 

Mahala  spoke  up.  "  Suppose  women  could  vote,  and 
that  a  war  was  inevitable  or  necessary  to  preserve  the 
interests  of  the  Republic.  Women  are  physically  unable 
to  back  up,  by  their  ability  to  fight  for  anything,  the  votes 
they  may  have  cast  for  war." 


THE   START.  ^g 

"  Ah,  Mike,"  said  her  aunt,  "  You  know  that  argument 
is  good  for  nothing,  although  I  doubt  not  you  hear  your 
father  and  other  intelligent  men  advance  it.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  only  very  rarely,  as  in  the  case  of  our  late  war, 
that  the  masses  rise  to  put  down  a  great  wrong.  War  is 
usually  brought  on  by  the  differences  of  a  few  diplomats, 
who,  mind  you,  do  not  do  any  of  the  fighting  they  have 
caused.  Secondly,  and  this  is  an  argument  for  allowing 
them  to  vote,  no  majority  of  women  would  ever  vote  for  a 
war.  They  are  essentially  merciful  and  averse  to  blood- 
shedding.  Supposing  these  questions  and  differences 
were  all  adjusted  by  arbitration,  would  the  world  be  less 
Christian  or  in  any  respect  hindered  in  its  progress 
towards  the  right  ? " 

"  Oh  !  I  surrender,  aunty  !  Don't  grind  me  to  powder, 
to  impalpable  paste,  I  pray  thee  !  " 

Here  Margery  interposed.  "  It  is  an  argument,  you 
know,  Miss  St.  John,  against  admitting  women  to  the 
ballot,  that  you  place  a  dangerous  power  in  the  hands  of 
many  vicious  and  ignorant  ones  at  the  same  time  that  you 
extend  the  privilege  to  the  purer  and  more  intelligent 
portion  of  the  sex,  so  that  politics  will  not  become  purified, 
but  only  more  complicated." 

"  Well,  girls,  I  do  not  intend  to  spoil  our  pleasure  on 
this  perfect  day  by  a  lengthy  argument  on  this  question. 
I  will  only  remind  you  that  the  fear  of  corruption  in  the 
bad  ones,  and  the  indifference  of  the  pampered  darlings," 
here  she  looked  hard  at  Julie,  who  opened  her  lips  in  a 
reply,  but  thought  it  not  worth  while  and  said  nothing, 
"  has  not  the  slightest  bearing  on  the  point  of  doing  justice 


EjO  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

to  one-half  of  humanity  who  are  now  without  a  voice  in 
their  own  laws.  But  my  grand  idea  for. the  purification  of 
politics,  for  the  enlightenment  of  the  masses,  and  an  irre- 
sistible incentive  to  the  education,  industry,  and  frugality 
of  every  individual,  is  this.  It  has  been  in  my  mind  as  a 
solution  of  many  growing  evils  and  abuses  for  a  long  time, 
but  I  have  never  given  it  utterance,  realizing  that  it  is  so 
far  in  advance  of  the  world's  civilization  that  it  is  not  yet 
available." 

"  Hear !  hear ! "  cried  Mahala,  and  all  listened  attentive- 
ly for  the  exposition  of  the  plan  for  the  saving  of  the 
Republic.  The  lady  spoke  impressively  as  she  leaned 
against  the  saddle  of  her  machine,  and  emphasized  the 
portentous  words  with  one  finger  on  the  palm  of  the  other 
hand. 

"  I  would  have  an  educational  and  property  test  which 
should  be  applied  to  every  candidate  for  the  elective 
franchise,  male  or  female.  No  one  should  be  allowed  to 
vote  who  could  not  pass  an  examination  upon  a  good  com- 
mon-school education.  No  one  should  vote  who  had  not 
a  small  property,  say  three  or  five  hundred  dollars'  worth, 
unincumbered  by  debts.  Individuals  who  cared  enough 
for  the  privileges  of  citizenship  to  educate  themselves  to 
this  extent,  and  who,  in  saving  this  amount  of  taxable 
goods  had  gained  also  habits  of  industry,  would  not  make 
careless  voters.  They  would  not  be  led  blindly  by  any 
demagogue  who  would  stoop  to  do  it,  and  they  could  not 
vote  away  money  which  they  have  never  earned,  as  they 
now  are  so  free  to  do.  Thus  you  would  exclude  the  dense 
ignorance  which  is  now  permitted  at  the  polls,  the  only 


THE  START.  ^j 

passport  at  present  needed  being  a  certificate  of  mascu- 
linity. I  also  recommend  it  as  a  remedy  for  the  disease 
known  variously  as  Communism,  Nihilism,  Socialism,  and 
so  forth.  But,"  resignedly,  "I  do  not  expect  to  live  to 
see  it." 

"  No,  I  am  afraid  not,  aunty,  unless  you  can  stick  by  as 
long  as  Methuselah  did,"  suggested  her  irreverent  niece, 
dashing  ahea,d  in  "a  terrific  burst  of  speed,"  as  the  race 
reporters  would  say. 

"  But,  Dude,"  said  the  chaperone  of  the  party,  after  a 
respectful  silence  of  about  two  seconds,  "  politics  are  not 
becoming  to  you.  If  you  only  knew  how  much  more  lov- 
able you  look  when  you  are  sketching." 

Miss  St.  John  turned  upon  her  friend  with  unconcealed 
exasperation,  which  was  certainly  justified  by  the  irrele- 
vancy of  the  remark,  but  her  lips  softened  into  an  indulgent 
smile  as  Julia  kissed  her  gloved  finger-tips  to  her  in  her 
own  ingenuous  manner  and  rode  ahead,  laughing  at  the 
indignation  she  had  provoked. 

"  This  will  take  us  over  the  lovely  ridge-road,"  said  Mrs. 
Mather,  leading  away  to  the  left.  When  they  came  to  the 
narrow  single  track  which  runs  for  some  distance  between 
the  fence  and  a  high  bank,  they  rode  in  single  file.  Lest 
they  should  meet  some  vehicle  in  the  narrow  way  and  be 
forced  to  pull  their  wheels  up  the  steep  bank  to  let  it  pass, 
Mahala  blew  a  lusty  blast  upon  her  tin  horn  to  warn 
approaching  travelers  that  some  one  was  on  the  single 
road.  She  was  considerably  conceited  over  her  fore- 
thought when,  on  emerging  into  the  broader  way,  they  met 
a  heavily-loaded  team  which  was  waiting  at  the  entrance 


C2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

for  them  to  pass.  Then  along  the  beautiful  road  which, 
stretching  by  the  side  of  the  ridge,  gave  such  a  glorious 
view  of  the  gorgeous  world  of  woods  and  meadows  to  the 
left.  They  selected  several  building-spots  for  themselves, 
to  be  purchased  when  their  ship  should  have  come  in  and 
they  be  searching  for  an  unsurpassed  location  for  a  sum- 
mer villa. 

They  conciliated  barking  dogs,  admired  homely  farm- 
houses, discovered  a  busy  mother-cat  hunting  in  the  fields, 
and  spatted  their  hands  and  trundled  swiftly  after  a  snort- 
ing and  disapproving  old  horse  who  was  wandering  aim- 
lessly in  the  road,  until  they  were  tired. 

Even  pale  Margery  was  forgetful  of  everything  but  the 
beauty  of  the  day,  the  merry  jests  of  her  companions,  and 
the  novelty  of  the  excursion.  They  did  not  stop  to  con- 
sider anything  as  better  than  laughter  on  this  day,  and 
wheeled  along  the  road  —  how  light  and  noiseless  !  —  at  a 
rapid  rate.  At  length  they  ran  around  the  corner  at 
Wethersfield,  on  the  main  road.  They  had  made  many  a 
turn  in  and  out  from  the  highway,  ever  and  anon  catching 
glimpses  of  beautiful  scenery  which  was  too  enticing,  and 
they  must  get  a  nearer  view.  One  "wee  bit  of  the  river," 
had  to  be  jotted  down  in  the  sketch-book — "just  one,  for 
the  first  day,"  the  artist  pleaded,  and  the  others  graciously 
loitered.  Mahala  cast  her  eye  about  for  entomological 
specimens ;  but  saw  nothing  save  some  plebeian  beetles, 
which  she  said  "Joe  had  a  million  of  now." 

They  were  at  Wethersfield,  their  first  stopping-place. 
"  Yes,  here  we  are  at  Aunt  Phebe's,"  said  Margery,  as  she 
alighted  from  her  saddle.  "Did  you  ever  see  grander 
trees  ? " 


THE  START.  *^ 

"What  a  dear,  old-fashioned  house!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Mather,  looking  up  to  the  gambrel  roof  and  at  the  quaint 
little  dormers. 

"But  the  inside  is  full  of  interesting  things,"  said 
Margery,  as  she  shook  her  skirts  to  free  them  from  all 
dust,  "and  when  you  see  Aunt  Phebe,  you  will  love  her  at 
once.  Just  a  kind,  silver-haired  woman,  of  sterling  worth 
and  sweetness.  She  will  be  so  surprised  to  see  us !  But  I 
am  always  sure  of  a  welcome.  Inconvenienced  ?  No  fear ! 
She  will  be  delighted.  There  she  stands  now ! — out  under 
that  old  back  stoop.  She  has  her  basket  full  of  —  oh! 
ripe  tomatoes,"  said  Margery,  stepping  lightly  through 
the  open  gate,  to  greet  her  aunt.  The  lady  came  forward 
with  the  hesitating  air  of  a  person  whose  sight  does  not 
serve  as  quickly  as  in  younger  days,  and  could  not  believe 
her  eyes  until  she  was  fairly  in  the  warm  embrace  of  her 
favorite  niece.  The  basket  of  tomatoes  was  still  upon  her 
arm. 

"  What,  all  four  of  you !  came  from  Hartford  —  and  on 
those  things!"  The  lady  had  been  shut  up  in  the  house, 
an  invalid  for  more  than  two  years.  "  Well,  you  will  not 
need  any  oats  for  your  horses!"  she  rejoined,  smiling 
"  You  would  be  welcome  if  you  did.  But  you  need  rest 
and  food  for  yourself  and  your  friends.  Bring  them  in, 
dear,  and  tell  me  who  they  are." 

Margery  beckoned  smilingly  to  the  party  of  tricyclers, 
who  had  remained  modestly  at  the  gate,  and  presented 
them. 

"Thomas  Wright's  daughter]  Oh  my  dear!"  The 
pleasant  eyes  looked  searchingly  at  Mahala  as  she  held  her 


C4  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

off  to  get  a  clearer  sight.  The  young  girl  had  impulsively 
bestowed  a  kiss  upon  the  kind  face.  "  Why,  your  father 
— "  she  paused  and  felt  for  the  glasses.  They  were  not 
in  their  accustomed  place.  She  wiped  her  eyes  as  if  to 
clear  the  vision.  "Your  father  and  I  were  friends,  years, 
ago.  Do  they  say  you  favor  him  ?  " 

"  They  tell  me  I  have  his  laugh  and  his  eyes,"  answered 
the  girl. 

"Well,  well,  and  so  he  has  a  daughter  as  old  as  you  — 
you  are  the  oldest  ? " 

"  I  have  one  brother  older,  twenty-one." 

"  Twenty-one,"  repeated  the  lady,  meditating.  She  put 
the  basket  down,  still  looking  at  Mahala. 

"  Yes,  it  must  be  thirty-eight  years  ago ;  we  planted 
that  tree  together.  'Twas  a  happy  day."  Here  the 
tomatoes  began  to  fall,  slowly  bumping  down  the  steps, 
the  basket  having  toppled  over  from  its  insecure  resting- 
place.  Both  stooped  to  catch  them,  but  the  quick  move- 
ment of  the  older  lady's  hand  was  with  her  apron  to  her 
eyes ;  while  Mahala  caught  and  replaced  the  fruit. 

"  Yes,  it  is  so,"  and  she  looked  up  at  Mahala' s  lissom 
figure.  "  Then  we  —  then  he  went  away.  He  studied 
law,  I  heard.  I  never  saw  him  again  until  after  he  was 
married.  He  came  one  day  to  see  how  the  tree  had 
grown.  That  was  when  you  were  in  the  Land  of  Nowhere, 
dear.  I  remember  now  your  brother  was  a  little  thing ;  he 
told  me  of  him  and  of  his  wife  ;  and  you  are  his  daughter," 
she  said,  coming  back  to  the  present  moment.  "  Well,  I  will 
love  you,  too,"  she  said,  with  glistening  eye  resting  on  the 
interesting  face  glowing  with  youth  and  beauty,  and  she 


THE  START.  55 

laid  her  gray  head  beside  Mahala's  dark  locks  as  she  took 
her  into  her  arms. 

Mahala  had  unfastened  her  hat  and  stood  bare-headed 
under  the  trees,  accepting  eagerly  all  the  interest  of  the 
occasion,  and  wondering  if  she  had  ever  heard  papa  speak 
of  this  winning  lady. 

The  entertainments  of  the  remaining  afternoon  and 
evening  were  as  enjoyable  as  the  day's  beginning. 

To  see  all  the  antique  belongings  of  this  ante-revolu- 
tionary mansion  was  a  feast  in  itself.  There  were  glimpses 
in  the  dining-room  of  the  delighted  artist,  making  a  study 
of  the  big  fire-place.  One  could  sit  inside  its  yawning 
mouth  in  the  corner  in  comfort,  if  the  fire  were  not  too  hot. 
There  was  an  ancient  piano  with  attenuated  legs,  a  violin 
of  historical  value,  and  interesting  associations ;  little  yellow 
sheets  of  mournful  music,  marvelous  wall-paper,  scores  of 
things  to  keep  the  young  visitors  in  enthusiastic  expres- 
sions of  admiration,  and  to  further  win  the  heart  of  their 
owner  by  their  manifest  appreciation  of  her  cherished 
relics. 

The  friends  were  shown  at  night  into  a  large  room  with 
two  beds  in  it.  Their  trunk,  which  had  been  brought  to 
the  house  by  an  expressman,  stood  awaiting  them  in  a 
corner. 

"  What  a  day  this  has  been  ! "  exclaimed  Mahala,  as  she 
sat  down  in  a  chair  and  stooped  to  unbutton  a  boot.  She 
yawned. 

"  It  has  certainly  been  most  delightful  in  every  respect," 
agreed  Mrs.  Mather,  as  she  vigorously  brushed  her  gray 
waist  at  the  window,  and  they  congratulated  themselves 


-£  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

on  their  hostess,  and  chatted  of  the  home  where  they  felt 
so  sheltered.  "The  roads  are  in  prime  condition,  too," 
said  Margery,  "  and  the  weather  absolutely  perfect." 

"Yes,"  answered  Miss  St.  John,  "and  the  foliage  is 
beginning  to.  take  on  just  the  coloring  I  want  to  study  for 
my  last  picture." 

She  was  carefully  rinsing  and  wiping  some  brushes, 
and  making  ready  for  an  early  start  on  the  morrow. 

They  were  all  weary  and  longing  for  rest.  Each  one 
was  busily  preparing  for  bed. 

"Now,  isn't  it  perfectly  delightful,"  said  Mahala,  as  she 
kicked  off  one  boot,  "to  be  able  to  take  such  a  jaunt  as 
this,  without  any  men  along  to  dictate,  and  bother,  and 
spoon ! "  She  put  such  vindictive  force  into  the  last  word 
that  a  button  flew  off  from  the  second  shoe,  which  she 
was  removing. 

"Oh!  dear!  there  goes  a  button,  and  the  first  day,  too! 
Now  I  have  got  to  sew  it  on.  I  tightened  them  all  up, 
yesterday."  And  she  got  out  her  little  work-box,  and 
commenced  to  sew.  "If  there  is  anything  that  I  perfectly 
abominate,  it  is  untidy  shoes.  But,"  returning  to  the  sub- 
ject of  special  rejoicing,  "isn't  it  jolly  not  to  have  any 
masculines  with  us?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  quickly  responded  Aunt  Dude,  who  was 
pasting  her  hair  into  montagues,  and  tying  them  down 
with  a  piece  of  white  net. 

"Of  course  it  is  nice,  very  nice,  to  go  it  alone,  when  no 
more  difficulties  are  in  the  way  than  we  have  met  to-day. 
I  hope  it  will  all  be  as  smooth  sailing,"  said  Mrs.  Mather, 
sighing  faintly. 

"Wheeling,  you  mean,  little  woman,"  added  Mahala. 


THE  START.  ^ 

"Gracious!  how  lame  my  legs  are! — or  limbs,  I  suppose  I 
should  say.  Twigs  would  be  even  more  modest." 

"I  believe  ladies  are  allowed  to  have  legs  in  these 
days,"  said  their  diminutive  chaperone,  smiling  at  Mahala's 
undiminished  flow  of  spirits. 

"Well,  they  have  got  to  have  them  to  ride  a  tricycle,  at 
all  events,"  said  the  irrepressible  hoyden.  "Mine  are 
sorer  than  they  have  been  before,  since  Sim  Blodgett  first 
loaned  me  his  wheels  to  try." 

By  this  time  all  were  in  bed  except  Aunt  Dude,  who 
put  out  the  light,  and  Miss  Wright  declared  her  intention 
of  being  asleep  in  less  than  a  minute.  But  in  ten  seconds 
she  burst  out : 

"  Margery,  what  did  Felix  say  to  your  taking  this  trip  ? 
He  is  so  partial  to  clinging-vine  women,  that  I  should  have 
expected  him  to  be  horror-stricken  at  the  idea." 

Poor  Margery,  under  the  cover  of  the  darkness,  was  able 
to  reply,  quietly,  "O,  he  made  no  objection;  you  know,  I 
am  still  my  own  mistress." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  the  pert  young  miss,  "and  furthermore, 
I  mean  to  remain  so." 

Another  quiet  spell,  and  a  delicious  drowsiness  began  to 
steal  over  the  senses  of  the  tired  travelers,  when  the  little 
wretch  was  heard  to  giggle  convulsively. 

"  Goodness  gracious  !  "  exclaimed  her  aunt,  getting  out 
of  patience,  "  why  don't  you  go  to  sleep  ?  I  am  sure  we 
are  all  tired  enough." 

"I  was  just  about  to  start  my  mill  (knitting  up  the 
*  raveled  sleeve  of  care/  you  know)  when  I  happened  to 
think  of  how  Sim  proposed  to  us  girls,  and  how  we  paid 
him.  Let  me  tell  you, — it  won't  take  but  a  moment." 


eg  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Oh,  Mike!"  groaned  Julie.  "Keep  it  until  to-mor- 
row," begged  Miss  St.  John,  who  well  knew  that  concilia- 
tion was  the  best  policy  at  such  a  time.  But  it  failed  in 
this  instance,  for  Margery,  who  was  not  disposed  to  sleep, 
and  was  glad  of  anything  to  divert  her  thoughts  from  her 
lover  and  his  supposed  trifling,  said,  "  Go  on,  Mike.  Let 
her  tell  it,  girls." 

They  all  used  the  name  which  had  been  given  to  merry 
Mahala  by  her  brothers,  and  accepted  by  her  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Encouraged  by  Margery,  she  began.  "  Well, 
you  all  know  just  what  kind  of  a  fellow  Sim  is — dresses 
well,  is  attentive  to  all  the  girls,  indispensable  at  every 
party  and  picnic,  and  can  do  everything,  from  leading  a 
German  to  sewing  on  fancy  work  or  making  a  salad. 
He 's  real  nice  "  (generously),  "  but  you  'd  never  think  of 
marrying  him,  never"  (positively).  "But  Sim  is  getting 
old.  He  has  let  at  least  half  a  dozen  sets  go  by  him  and 
sink  into  the  insignificance  of  married  life,  and  he  has 
begun  to  think  it  is  time  he  married  some  girl  whose 
father  will  board  him,  and  her,  while  his  salary  will  just 
about  pay  for  his  clothes.  You  see,  if  she  will  furnish  the 
bread,  he  will  try  and  get  the  water." 

"Don't  elaborate,  Mike,  and  on  borrowed  wit,  too," 
said  the  voice  of  her  aunt  in  the  other  bed.  "  Make  it 
short." 

"  Well,  it  suddenly  popped  into  my  head  that  he  was 
getting  unusually  sweet  on  me,  and  one  evening,  going 
home  from  Margie's  house,  he  proposed  to  me.  Of  course 
1  told  him  it  was  of  no  use ;  liked  him  as  a  friend,  and  all 
that,  and  furthermore  that  I  meant  to  live  and  die  entirely 
free  and  at  my  own  sweet  will." 


THE  START.  tjg 

"Don't  be  too  positive,  Mike.  You  are  not  very  old 
yet,"  interjected  Mrs.  Mather. 

"  It  was  too  good  to  keep,  of  course,"  continued  Mahala, 
"  and  I  had  to  tell  Em.  She  commenced  to  laugh,  and 
said,  '  Poor  Sim  !  he  proposed  to  me,  too.'  '  No,'  says  I. 
'Yes,'  she  says,  'and  to  Stella,  too.' 

"  Well,  you  know,  that  was  too  much,  so  we  rushed  over 
to  Stella's,  and  I  fell  up  the  steps  and  tore  the  ruffle  off  my 
new  garnet  silk.  It  was  an  awful  tear;  went  zig-zaggy  in 
every  direction.  Had  to  take  it  to  the  dress-maker's  and 
have  a  piece  taken  out." 

"  Never  mind  the  tear,  tell  us  about  Sim,"  said  Margery, 
who  was  laughing  in  spite  of  herself. 

"I  was  just  going  to,  my  dear,  if  you  had  not  inter- 
rupted me,"  retorted  Mahala,  briskly.  "So  we  put  our 
heads  together,  not  to  make  a  plank  walk"  (this  execra- 
bly stale  joke  was  allowed  to  pass  without  remonstrance), 
"but  to  make  a  plan,  and  we  wrote  three  notes,  each  one 
saying — in  different  language,  of  course — that  we  had 
changed  our  minds  ;  that  if  he  still  loved  us  we  would 
accept  his  faithful  and  unswerving  love,  and  asked  him  to 
wear  a  white  rose-bud  in  his  button-hole — Em.  said  a  pink 
one,  and  Stella  named  daisies — as  he  went  to  church  the 
next  day.  We  mailed  them  at  the  same  time,  and  of 
course  he  received  them  simultaneously.  Sim  has  been 
perfectly  demoralized  ever  since.  Won't  go  to  a  party,  or 
look  at  one  of  us  on  the  street.  They  say,  now,  he  is 
going  to  marry  a  wealthy  girl  in  the  country.  Was  n't  it 
rich  ?  Good  night,  girls.  I  am  tired  half  to  death  and 
really  must  go  to  sleep.  I  have  not — made  this — as  inter- 
esting as  I  could  if  I  wasn't  so — slee — ." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Cj-o   -to 

IT  is  not  the  intention  of  the  authors  of  this  sketch  to 
follow  the  tricycle-riders  over  every  consecutive  mile 
of  their  route  along  the  banks  of  the  Connecticut  river, 
from  the  (nominal)  head  of  navigation  to  its  mouth.  We 
shall  content  ourselves  with  an  outline  of  the  more  interest- 
ing scenes  and  incidents  among  the  great  variety  of  events 
and  experiences  which  befell  our  venturesome  quartette. 

Sunday  morning  found  them  all  well  and  in  the  best  of 
spirits  (except,  perhaps,  Miss  Prescott,  whose  pride  however 
enabled  her  to  effectually  conceal  the  rankling  hurt  in  her 
heart)  at  a  home-like  hotel  in  a  pleasant  town  some  miles 
below  Wethersfield. 

As  they  sat  at  breakfast,  Mrs.  Mather  addressed  the 
neat  maid  who  waited  upon  them  at  table.  "Maggie,  I 
think  there  is  a  church  in  this  place  ?  "  "  Oh  yes,  ma'am," 
the  girl  answered  in  some  surprise,  "there's  two  or  three." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  understand  you,  Maggie,"  said  the  lady, 
kindly, "but  I  refer  to  The  Church  —  an  Episcopal  Church, 
of  course." 

"  It  is  very  evident  that  our  little  chaperone  has  con- 

(60) 


THEY  GO   TO  CHURCH.  £j 

victions  on  some  subjects,  if  not  upon  others,"  said  Miss 
St.  John  behind  her  hand  to  Margery. 

"Thank  you,  Maggie,"  said  the  lady,  graciously,  "I  was 
informed  there  was  a  church  here.  It  is  such  a  comfort," 
she  continued,  turning  to  her  friends,  "  to  know  that 
wherever  you  are,  at  home  or  abroad,  the  doors  of  the 
Church  are  always  open  to  you.  One  needs  no  introduc- 
tion or  permission  to  enter ;  the  universal  God  is  every- 
where. One  fears  encountering  no  personal  diatribes  from 
the  rector.  The  sermon  is  not  a  lecture  with  a  religious 
tendency,  but  an  explanation  and  application  of  the  Word, 
as  the  great  minds  in  Church  office  understand  it.  It  is 
such  a  rock  in  stability  and  strength !  I  suppose  the  ser- 
vice is  at  the  usual  hour,  and  we  will  find  our  way  by 
inquiries." 

They  were  all  glad  to  welcome  the  day  of  rest,  and  were 
soon  ready  for  church,  as  no  change  could  be  made  in 
their  dress,  except  to  put  on  clean  collars,  to  carefully 
brush  their  hats,  and  don  better  gloves  and  shoes  than  they 
wore  while  traveling. 

"  There ! "  said  Mrs.  Mather,  as  she  shook  a  fresh  hand- 
kerchief  out  of  its  folds,  "  I  feel  quite  like  a  respectable 
member  of  society  once  more." 

This  caused  Mahala  to  remark  that  she  believed  Julie 
would  be  happy  cast  away  upon  a  desert  island,  if  she  could 
only  have  plenty  of  clean  and  pretty  handkerchiefs. 

Soon  the  bells  began  to  ring,  sending  their  urgent 
resonance  far  over  field  and  river,  quickening  the  feet  of 
devout  souls  whose  inclinations  led  them  to  worship,  and 
increasing  the  speed  of  family  carriages  which  were 


fa  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

decorously  wending  their  way  from  distant  places,  "  a  few 
to  Church  and  more  to  meeting"  Mrs.  Mather  said,  senten- 
tiously. 

The  four  companions  walked  along  the  pretty  street  with 
a  directness  and  purpose  which  at  once  marked  them  as 
city  women. 

"  It 's  a  female  seminary ! "  said  a  youth  who,  with 
others,  was  curiously  watching  the  gray  suits  approach. 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  They  are  temperance  workers  !  " 
said  another. 

"Not  much!"  asseverated  the  youth.  "Humph!  I 
guess  not !  They  are  too  good  looking ! " 

Here,  one  of  the  younger  boys,  who  stood  behind  in  the 
group  of  bystanders,  gave  the  youth  a  vigorous  push,  so 
that  he  was  violently  projected  into  the  path  in  front  of 
Margery.  She,  passing  swiftly,  stepped  on  to  his  foot. 

"  Oh,  sir !  I  beg  your  pardon  !  "  she  instantly  cried, 
sensing  the  whole  situation,  "  did  I  hurt  your  foot  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  !  No,  indeed  !  Not  in  the  least;  it  was  all  my 
fault!"  protested  the  crimson  youth,  and  the  low-voiced 
"  sir "  and  her  beautiful  smile  warmed  his  heart  for  many 
a  day  after. 

The  friends  entered  the  church-door.  Above  it  was  the 
legend 

JMs  is  a  fgfoes  ®tmrcfc. 

But  Mrs.  Mather,  politely  accosting  a  tall  gentleman 
who  stood  in  the  vestibule,  asked  him  to  show  them  a 
seat.  He  replied,  "  This  is  a  free  church,  madam.  You 
can  take  any  seat  you  like." 


THEY  GO    TO  CHURCH.  5^ 

"  Is  it  really  so  ? "  said  Miss  St.  John  quickly,  looking 
up  to  him  in  her  bright  way  with  a  glint  of  sarcasm  in  her 
gray  eyes,  "  or  shall  we  mortally  offend  some  good  pillar 
by  occupying  the  pew  which  he  has  acquired  by  right  of 
possession?  Free  seats  in  theory,  is  one  thing " 

"  This  is  a  free  church  in  practice,"  answered  the  gentle- 
man, with  a  pleasant  smile,  and  a  look  of  interest  at  the 
party. 


"  I  congratulate  you ! "  said  the  artist,  as  they  passed 
inside. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  blessed  hour  in  the  subdued  light  and 
stillness,  which  was  broken  only  by  the  rich  voice  of  the 
rector,  as  he  recited  the  impressive  words  of  the  service, 
and  the  low  responses  of  the  kneeling  congregation.  A 
restful  peace  fell  upon  the  troubled  breast  of  proud  and 


54  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

wounded  Margery,  and  at  the  words  :  "Almighty  God, 
unto  whom  all  hearts  are  open,  all  desires  known,  and  from 
whom  no  secrets  are  hid,"  the  tears  came  unbidden  to  her 
eyes. 

Mrs.  Mather  paid  strict  attention  to  every  change  in  the 
service,  entirely  absorbed  in  the  ceremonials  so  dear  to 
her.  Miss  St.  John  allowed  her  thoughts  to  wander  to  a 
very  tasteful  window,  which  she  observed  with  an  artist's 
eye  for  color ;  and  Mahala  sat  quiet  and  attentive,  uncon- 
sciously raising  a  disturbance  in  the  cardiac  region  of  a 
young  physician  who  sat  in  the  pew  behind.  He  assidu- 
ously found  the  hymns  for  her,  and  leaned  over  the  back 
of  the  seat  in  passing  her  his  own  book  to  get  a  look  at 
her  eyes.  Conspicuous  in  gilt  letters  upon  the  flexible 
cover  of  his  hymnal  was  the  name  Dr.  Launceolot  Cutter. 

"  He  ought  to  be  a  good  surgeon,"  breathed  Mahala  to 
Margery,  without  moving  her  lips,  as  she  looked  demurely 
at  the  stamp.  She  cast  a  bewitching  glance  of  gratitude 
toward  the  young  ^Esculapius  as  she  returned  the  book, 
which  he  understood  to  be  full  of  meaning  and  rapturous 
possibilities — and  never  thought  of  him  again. 

The  strangers  all  joined  in  the  singing,  and  Mahala' s 
bird-like  soprano  rose  sweet  and  clear,  so  that  several  staid 
worshipers  turned  about  to  see  where  the  new  voice  was, 
and  were  considerably  distracted  from  the  remainder  of 
the  service  thereby. 

As  the  visitors  filed  out  with  the  slow-moving  congrega- 
tion, they  were  met  at  the  door  by  a  beaming  and  cordial 
lady  of  perhaps  forty  years.  She  was  rather  stout,  with 
large  pleasant  eyes,  a  funny  little  nose,  which  was  inclined 
to  be  red,  and  a  smiling  and  voluble  mouth. 


THEY  GO   TO  CHURCH.  g,. 

"I  perceive  that  you  are  strangers  here,  ladies,"  she 
said  in  a  most  hearty  tone,  "  and  I  am  very  happy  to  wel- 
come you  to  our  little  church.  I  am  Mrs.  Moore,  the  wife 
of  the  rector." 

"It  is  very  pleasant  to  meet  such  a  greeting,  Mrs- 
Moore,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  with  feeling,  "when,  except  for 
the  sheltering  arms  of  the  Church,  we  felt  we  were  among 
strangers.  These  are  my  friends,  Miss  St.  John,  Miss 
Margery  Prescott,  and  Miss  Mahala  Wright,"  said  the 
chaperone,  who  was  much  touched,  as  indeed  they  all  were, 
at  this  unexpected  and,  alas !  unusual  kindness. 

"This  is  my  daughter,"  said  the  good  lady,  presenting 
a  young  girl  of  sixteen,  who  was  standing  near  and  eagerly 
scanning  the  interesting  group. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  know  you,"  asserted  the  daughter, 
with  a  youthful  reproduction  of  her  mother's  cordial  man- 
ners. "  I  could  hardly  wait  to  get  through  the  service," 
she  said  to  Mahala.  "  I  was  so  impatient  to  know  if  you 
were  not  the  ladies  who  came  here  yesterday  on  tricycles." 

"I  suppose  we  are,"  answered  Mahala,  showing  her 
dimples  as  she  smiled  pleasantly  upon  her  new  acquaint- 
ance. 

"  Oh  !  then,  you  will  let  me  see  them,  won't  you  ?  "  ex- 
claimed the  little  Miss.  "  I  am  just  crazy  to  ride  one  !  " 

"Fie,  fie,  Jennie !  how  wild  you  are  ! "  her  mother  said, 
gently. 

But  Mahala  gave  her  hand  a  little  squeeze  as  they  stood 
together,  and  Jennie  understood  her. 

"  Henry,  dear  !  "  Mrs.  Moore  exclaimed,  as  the  rector, 
now  divested  of  his  robes,  came  out  the  green-baize  door, 
w.  &  w.— 5 


56  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  here  are  some  ladies  whom  you  wish  to  know.  This  is 
— "  and  she  remembered  every  name.  Then  they  saw 
that  it  was  the  rector  that  they  had  spoken  with  on  their 
entrance. 

"I  met  these  ladies  before  service  and  felt  sure  you 
would  capture  them,  wife,"  replied  the  rector,  who  was  a 
tall  man  with  grayish  hair  and  beard,  and  a  deep  musical 
voice.  "  Have  you  invited  them  to  lunch  ?  We  shall  take 
you  home  with  us  this  noon,"  he  said,  bending  politely  to 
Mrs.  Mather. 

"  Oh  !  really,  sir — "  she  commenced. 

"  Yes,  we  shall,"  he  insisted  ;  "  my  wife  always  does  so. 
She  purposely  sits  back,  so  that  she  may  detect  and  way- 
lay any  unsuspecting  visitors." 

"Hemy!"  exclaimed  the  lady,  laughing.  "But  you 
will  go,  will  you  not?"  she  said  earnestly  to  Miss  St. 
John.  "We  shall  deem  it  a  favor  to  us." 

Mrs.  Mather  looked  at  Miss  St.  John  an  instant,  in 
pleasurable  doubt. 

Miss  St.  John  nodded  just  a  sixteen-thousandth  part  of 
an  inch. 

"  There  is  certainly  every  inducement  for  us  to  accept 
your  kindness,  and  no  reason  to  refuse,  except  that  we 
hesitate  to  trespass  so  much  upon  your  hospitality,  Mrs. 
Moore,"  said  Mrs.  Mather. 

"  Then  you  shall  go !  "  said  the  young  daughter,  who 
already  had  Mahala  by  the  arm.  She  joyfully  skipped 
along  by  her  side  in  fervent  admiration  of  her  new  friend. 
Her  quick  eye  had  taken  every  detail  of  the  city  girl's  cos- 
tume, from  the  stylish  hat  that  sat  so  jauntily  upon  the 


THEY  GO    TO   CHURCH.  §~ 

dark  curls,  to  the  ends  of  her  daintily-clad  hands  and  feet. 
"  Oh,  mamma,"  she  begged  an  hour  later  at  lunch,  "  can  't 
I  have  my  new  dress  cut  in  Hartford  ?  They,"  looking 
wistfully  at  the  symmetrical  gray  waists,  "  they  are  so  dif- 
ferent from  Miss  Seamer's  work." 

Yes,  reader,  the  strangers  were  actually  taken  home  by 
this  minister  and  his  family.  Mr.  Moore  walked  atten- 
tively beside  Margery  and  Mrs.  Mather,  while  his  wife 
chatted  in  a  most  agreeable  manner  to  Miss  St.  John. 

"To  explain  my  husband's  dreadful  insinuations  con- 
cerning my  artful  designs,"  she  said,  as  she  trotted  along, 
"  I  do  sit  rather  far  back  in  church,  with  an  idea  of  the 
better  seeing  and  greeting  our  parishioners,  and  so  I 
naturally  meet  all  the  strangers,  and  one  can  do  no  less 
than  make  them  welcome,"  she  said,  in  an  almost  apolo- 
getic way. 

Miss  St.  John  thought  grimly,  that  some  could  do  con- 
siderably less. 

"  Will  some  one  kindly  stick  a  pin  into  my  arm,  pull  my 
hair,  or  in  some  way  convince  me  that  I  am  awike  ? "  said 
Mahala,  in  a  suppressed  voice,  and  offering  a  plump  elbow 
and  a  curly  head,  to  her  companions  when  they  were  left 
alone  for  a  moment  in  the  cosy  sitting-room  of  the  rectory. 
Mrs.  Moore  had  bustled  away  with  her  daughter  to  prepare 
lunch,  and  the  rector  had  stepped  up  stairs  to  procure  a 
book  he  had  been  talking  of.  "  Will  no  one  accommodate 
me  with  a  pinch?"  she  inquired  again. 

"  S-sh !  Mike,  no  nonsense  now,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Mather,  shaking  her  head  at  the  frolicsome  member. 
""But  isn't  this  too  delightful  for  anything?"  she  said,  as 


58  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

she  looked  around  with  glistening  eyes.  She  was  highly 
appreciative  of  the  kindness  shown  them,  and  proportion- 
ately affected  by  it. 

"It  passes  belief." 

"It  is  true  Christian  love  and  fellowship"  chimed  the 
artist  and  Margery. 

A  simple  and  satisfying  lunch,  pleasant  conversation, 
during  which  all  had  become  as  old  friends,  exchanging  in- 
formation regarding  themselves,  expressing  opinions,  gain- 
ing ideas;  and,  after  two  hours,  the  traveling  party,  who 
had  almost  forgotten  that  they  were  pilgrims  and  compar- 
ative strangers,  went  back  to  the  hotel,  but  not  until  they 
had  promised  to  spend  another  hour  or  two  the  next  morn- 
ing at  the  rectory,  and  give  Jennie  a  chance  to  try  the 
fairy  wheels  before  they  went  on  their  way. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


MONDAY  morning  was  fair,  and  after  paying  their 
small  bill  at  the  hotel — Mrs.  Mather  was  purser,  and 
paid  all  expenses  from  a  common  fund,  keeping  a  strict 
•cash  account,  as  well  as  attending  to  the  dispatching  of 
the  trunk  —  they  called  upon  the  Moores  as  agreed,  much 
to    the  delight    of    the   sprightly   daughter,   who,    under 
Mahala's  kind  tuition,  achieved  her  wild  hopes  and  rode 
the  tricycle  up  and  down,  round  and  around,  for  an  hour. 
Then   they   bade   good-by   and   God-speed,    parting  with 
mutual  reluctance,  and  were  once  more  upon  the  road. 
They  were  within  a  mile  of  Middletown  when. 
"Girls!  assume  your  glasses;  here  comes  a  man!" 
Instantly,  at  the  word  of  the  chaperone,  who  rode  in 
advance  with   Mahala  by  her  side,  the  four  pairs  of  eyes 
were  covered  with  blue  glass.    The  tricycles  slowed  up  con- 
siderably as  they  came  nearer  to  a  team,  which,  by  means 
of  a  sedate  and  thoughtful  old  horse,  was  making  its  way 
along  the  road.     Attached  to  the  sober  animal  was  a  rusty 
vehicle  which  had  once  been  a  nice  affair,  but  its  shining 
freshness  was  past  long  ago.      On  the  middle  of  the  high 

(69) 


JQ  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

seat  sat,  or  rather  perched,  an  individual  in  black  clothes 
with  worn  and  fraying  bindings.  A  small  clump  of  sparse 
whiskers  grew  on  his  rather  prominent  chin.  This  mascu- 
line adornment  would  naturally  have  been  gray,  but  the 
owner,  evidently  deluding  himself  with  the  idea  that  a 
purple-black  dye  would  conceal  his  age  and  add  a  general 
festivity  to  his  appearance,  had  used  the  deceitful  fluid 
upon  them,  but  some  days  before,  so  that,  as  the  beard 
grew  out  and  was  unavoidably  dampened  by  his  daily  ablu- 
tions, it  showed  a  quarter  of  an  inch  of  dirty  yellow  next 
the  face  which  deepened  through  various  shades  of  orange, 
pale  green,  and  greenish  purple,  into  the  deceptive  and 
fascinating  black,  which  looked  about  as  much  like  nature's 
glossy  jet  as  his  faded  satinet  clothes  resembled  the  fine 
broadcloth  of  a  fastidious  gentleman.  A  severely  high 
collar,  surrounded  by  a  wrinkled  black  neck-tie,  held  his 
long  neck  as  in  a  vise.  He  wore  a  tall  hat  with  a  wide 
weed,  and  black  kid  gloves,  through  the  rips  in  which  the 
ends  of  his  thumb  and  several  fingers  were  seen.  The  ex- 
pression on  his  sallow  countenance  was  an  indescribably 
funny  mixture  of  priggish  dignity  and  amazed  curiosity,  as 
each  party  turned  out  for  the  other. 

"  I  know  it  is  a  sin 
For  me  to  sit  and  grin 

At  him  here-" 
Muttered  Mahala; 

"  But  his  shocking  weedy  hat, 
And  his  gloves,  and  all  that, 
Are  so  queer." 

"  Be  still,  Mike,"  whispered  her  leader.     The  man  was 


ON   THE  ROAD.  ^j 

looking  at  tnem,  and  urging  the  indifferent  beast  into  an 
imperceptibly  faster  walk.  Seeing  that  he  was  about  to 
speak  to  them,  Mrs.  Mather  forestalled  his  intention  by 
saying  in  a  tragic  tone,  "  Sir,  please  tell  me,  are  we  nearing 
Portland  ? " 

The  shabby  gloves  pulled  up  the  dejected  steed,  and 
the  owner  slowly  surveyed  the  quartette  and  then  replied, 
"  Portland  ?  You  are  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  river, 
madam." 

"  What  ? "  quickly  asked  the  stern  woman,  with  her 
hand  behind  her  ear. 

"  You  are  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  river,"  he  repeated 
in  a  louder  voice.  "This  is  Middletown." 

Four  pairs  of  dense  blue  glasses  remained  leveled  at  his 
face,  and  no  one  said  a  word. 

"  Is  the  lady  hard  of  hearing  ?  "  inquired  the  stranger, 
turning  to  Miss  Wright,  who  came  next. 

"  What  ? "  ejaculated  Mahala,  raising  her  hand  to  her 
right  ear,  and  sending  the  monosyllable  with  such  force 
that  the  man  fairly  jumped. 

He  suddenly  caught  the  ghost  of  a  smile  on  the  face  of 
Miss  St.  John,  who  rode  in  the  rear,  and  putting  on  a 
sickly  smirk,  intended  to  be  attractive,  he  said  to  her, 
"  Madam,  your  young  ladies  are  playful.  Nothing  like 
merriment  in  the  young.  Oh !  yes,  let  them  laugh  and 
joke  while  they  may,  for  when  they  have  passed  through 
trials  and  bereavements"  (an  affecting  sigh),  "when  they 
have  lost  a  dear  partner  in  life"  (a  sniff),  "they  will  not 
feel  so  gay.  May  be,  ma'am,"  said  he,  leaning  over  im- 
pressively towards  the  artist,  "may  be  you,  too,  have 
suffered  such  a  loss." 


^2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

She  put  her  hand  behind  her  ear.  "  Wha-at  ? "  drawled 
she. 

This  was  a  poser.  He  looked  searchingly  from  face  to 
face,  and  failing  to  perceive  the  truth,  as  no  betraying 
eyes  were  to  be  seen,  turned  in  doubt  to  Margery. 

"  Miss,  I  do  not  know  whether  an  insult  is  intended  or 
not.  If  your  friends  are  really  deaf,  perhaps  you  can  be 
ears  for  them.  I  have  a  work  here  which  I  am  introduc- 
ing to  the  intelligent  people  of  this  community.  It  is  a 
very  interesting  and  instructive  book.  Deacon  Smart  of 
Middletown,  whom  perhaps  you  know,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Oliphant,  Miss  Sharp,  the  music-teacher,  and  many  other 
distinguished  names,  are  upon  the  list  of  my  subscribers. 
Perhaps  you  would  like  to  look  at  it,"  he  said,  encouraged 
by  the  interested  expression  Margery  had  wickedly  as- 
sumed. He  leaned  far  out  of  the  wagon  and  extended  a 
large  book  towards  her.  She  turned  her  glasses  upon  it 
but  made  no  move  to  take  it  from  his  hand.  He  gave  it  a 
little  twist  and  added,  "  It  is  the  life  of — " 

"What?"  said  Margery,  politely,  and  in  her  sweetest 
tones. 

The  man's  eyes  opened.  His  jaw  fell,  and  after  an 
instant  of  apparent  petrifaction  he  picked  up  his  lines  in 
solemn  wrath  and  drove  away. 

Mahala  dashed  along  the  road  with  her  handkerchief 
stuffed  into  her  mouth,  and  when  the  rusty  team  turned  a 
bend  in  the  street,  with  its  driver  still  casting  now  and 
then  a  puzzled  look  to  the  rear,  she  tumbled  off  from  her 
saddle,  and  sitting  down  on  a  stone  by  the  way,  held  her 
hands  to  her  sides  and  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  her 
cheeks. 


ON   THE  ROAD.  ~* 

"  Oh  !  dear  !  dear  i  "  she  gasped.  "  How  my  sides  ache  ! 
Was  n't  it  too  funny  for  any  use  ?  Ha  !  ha  !  ha-a-a  !  And 
when — he !  he ! — and  when  he  discovered  an  affinity  in 
Aunt  Dude,  I  thought  I  should  die." 

"Pshaw!  you  silly  girl,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  flushing  a 
little  while  she  laughed,  "  do  not  call  upon  your  imagina- 
tion in  order  to  get  a  joke  upon  me." 

"  But,  girls,  I'll  leave  it  to  you,  did  n't  he  look  too 
utterly  sweet  as  he  spoke  to  her,  and  threw  his  chin  out 
sideways  in  such  a  captivating  manner?" 

Mrs.  Mather  and  Margery  wisely  refrained  from  taking 
sides  on  this  important  question,  and  the  young  mischief- 
maker  continued  on  her  way,  feeling  that  the  plan  for  the 
battery  of  blue  glasses  and  the  baffling  "  what,"  which  had 
been  hatched  in  her  fertile  brain,  had  proved  a  brilliant 
success.  As  they  rode  on,  she  repeatedly  broke  out  into 
one  of  her  infectious  chuckles,  so  that  all  were  forced  to 
join  again  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  ludicrous  scene  just 
enacted. 

At  five  o'clock,  after  a  run  of  seven  or  eight  miles,  they 
came  into  a  beautiful  shaded  high  street  in  the  little  city 
of  Middletown.  "  You  remember,  do  you  not,  Mahala," 
said  Mrs.  Mather,  "that  Dickens  refers  to  this  town  and 
this  street  with  particular  admiration  in  his  'American 
Notes  ? '  " 

"  Oh  !  is  this  the  street  ?  "  said  Mahala,  casting  a  look 
about  them.  "  I  knew  he  did  praise  one  thing  in  America. 
I  am  glad  to  see  it  with  my  own  eyes." 

"  He  told  us  many  distasteful  truths,  though,  did  n't 
he?"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  smiling,  and  they  stopped  at  the 
house  of  a  friend  of  Mr.  Prescott's. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


1 1  "\  7OU  must  certainly  visit  the  Connecticut  Hospital  for 
JL  Insane  at  Middletown,"  Mr.  Prescott  had  said  to 
Margery,  and  had  given  her  a  letter  of  introduction  to  an 
old  friend  of  his,  who  held  a  position  of  trust  at  the  insti- 
tution. 

Therefore,  in  pursuance  of  a  part  in  the  plan  to  which 
all  had  looked  forward  with  interest,  they  started  about  ten 
in  the  morning  to  ride  out  to  the  hospital.  It  is  beauti- 
fully situated  a  mile  or  more  out  of  town,  upon  an  eminence 
which  commands  an  enchanting  view  of  city  and  river. 

They  rode  steadily  out  of  the  handsome  streets,  on  to  a 
low  road,  by  some  factories,  across  a  bridge,  and  soon  came 
to  the  hill.  Here,  as  usual,  they  dismounted  and  pushed 
their  machines,  but  as  they  reached  a  neat  little  lodge  at 
the  gate  which  opened  into  the  extensive  grounds,  they 
took  to  their  saddles  again  and  rode  rapidly  up  the  well- 
kept  drive,  which  ran  in  graceful  curves  to  the  main  en- 
trance of  the  building. 

They  remarked  the  slope  of  the  green  grass  stretch mg 
away  to  the  boundaries  of  the  grounds,  and  saw  several 

(74) 


SANE  AND  INSANE.  ^ 

rustic  arbors  with  seats  for  many  people  underneath  their 
canopies.  They  noticed  in  the  flower-plats,  which  were 
cut  in  many  graceful  designs,  that  a  few  brilliant  blossoms 
remained  untouched  by  the  frost. 

"  I  presume  the  more  delicate  plants  have  already  been 
housed,"  said  Margery,  "for  papa  tells  me  that  they  have 
a  perfect  bower  at  the  end  of  every  ward  where  the  patients 
are  at  all  capable  of  appreciating  them,  although  they  are 
obliged  to  protect  the  plants  from  irresponsible  hands  by 
wire  screens." 

Having  given  their  machines  into  the  charge  of  a  polite 
coachman,  who  met  them  as  they  drew  up  to  the  massive 
stone  steps,  they  rang  the  large  bell  at  the  door,  and  were 
shown  at  once  into  a  reception-room  by  a  young  lady.  She 
took  Margery's  letter  of  introduction,  accompanied  by  her 
card,  to  the  office  of  the  gentleman,  who  soon  after  entered 
the  room. 

He  was  known  to  all  his  associates  in  the  building  as 
"the  major,"  and  was  seen  to  be  a  remarkably  fine-looking 
gentleman  of  sixty  or  thereabouts,  with  a  well-filled  figure, 
which  was  clothed  in  garments  of  fashionable  style  and 
finest  quality.  His  gray  hair,  which  was  receding  from  his 
already  high  forehead,  grew  thickly  upon  his  temples,  and 
was  continued  in  a  full  mustache  and  side-whiskers,  which 
he  was  prone  to  clasp  and  pull  to  their  extreme  points  when 
discussing  or  considering  a  question.  His  manners  were 
graceful,  and  held  a  flattering  deference  to  all  ladies. 

"Is  this  Miss  Prescott?"  he  said,  as  Margery  arose  and 
came  a  step  forward  at  his  entrance. 

"It  is." 


^5  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  know  your  father's  daughter,"  said 
the  major,  "and  wish  to  extend  him  my  thanks  for  sending 
you  with  your  friends  to  call  upon  us  here." 

Margery  now  introduced  her  friends,  and  they  spent  a 
few  minutes  in  pleasant  conversation. 

Miss  St.  John  had  made  up  her  mind  about  the  major  in 
five  minutes  of  a  close  scrutiny  of  his  face  and  general 
deportment. 

"A  perfect  gentleman  of  the  old  school,"  she  said  aside 
to  Mrs.  Mather,  who  sat  near  her,  and  this  was  much  from 
her,  as  she  had  a  critical  eye  for  the  short  comings  of  the 
male  sex. 

"Now,  let  me  see,"  said  the  major,  rising  and  consulting 
his  watch,  "you  will  wish  to  go  about  the  building,  of 
course." 

"Yes;  if  you  please." 

"I  will  go  out,  if  you  will  excuse  me,  and  see  if  Mrs. 
Duncan  has  returned  from  her  morning  rounds.  She  is 
the  matron,  and  is  an  indefatigable  worker,  and  just  at 
present  has  several  quite  sick  patients  upon  her  hands.  So 
perhaps  —  ah,  here  she  is  now!"  he  said,  as  they  heard  a 
business-like  voice  in  the  hall.  It  was  saying:  "Yes,  doc- 
tor, it  seems  to  me  that  Miss  Merton  is  now  in  a  fair  way 
to  recover.  But  Johanna  is  still  a  very  sick  girl.  Don't 
you  think  so  ? "  and  as  they  all  waited,  a  low  conference 
ensued.  "Did  you  want  me,  major?"  she  said  at  last,  per- 
ceiving him  in  the  doorway,  as  they  heard  the  invisible 
doctor  walk  away. 

"Yes,  if  you  are  at  leisure,"  he  said,  turning  to  present 
her  to  the  visitors  who  sat  within  the  reception-room.  She 


SANE  AND  INSANE.  ~~ 

was  a  lady  of  energetic  action  and  of  very  attractive  coun- 
tenance. She  carried  several  keys  at  her  belt  and  had  a 
small  glass  of  some  cordial  in  her  hand.  They  all  knew 
that  she  had  been  in  charge  of  the  women's  wards  since 
the  hospital  was  instituted,  and  held  a  large  responsibility, 
which  she  discharged  with  unvarying  promptness  and  good 
judgment. 

"We  shall  certainly  be  pleased  to  show  you  about  the 
place,"  she'said  to  them,  "although  it  is  not  our  regular 
visiting  day." 

"  Oh,  then,  I  am  afraid  we  are  giving  you  too  much 
trouble,"  said  Mrs.  Mather. 

"  Not  at  all,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  trust  you  will  find 
things  in  comfortable  order,  although  some  of  the  patients 
who  are  scrupulous  about  their  appearance  may  not  have  on 
their  best  dresses,"  she -added,  smiling.  "  Will  you  come 
with  us  through  the  north  side,  major?" 

"  Certainly,  if  the  young  ladies  wish,  and  you  will  per- 
mit." As  they  started  out  he  turned  to  the  matron  and 
said  :  "  Perhaps  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now,  Mrs.  Duncan, 
that  Miss  St.  John,  after  presupposing  that  we  have  some 
dark  and  noisome  dungeons  down  in  the  earth  where 
howling  maniacs  lie  in  chains,  on  filthy  straw,  overrun  with, 
rats  and  smaller  vermin  — " 

"Oh,  sir!"  said  that  lady,  with  some  spirit,  "did  my 
small  insinuation  that  you  did  not  show  all  your  wards  to 
visitors  convey  such  an  exaggerated  idea  to  your  mind  ? 
I  merely  asked  if  we  would  be  allowed  to  see  the  worst 
cases." 

"That  was  what  I  was  about  to  add,  Miss  St.  John,  and 


yg  WHEELS  ANg    WHIMS. 

was  going  to  ask  Mrs.  Duncan  to  gratify  your  truly  femi- 
nine desire ;  I  will  not  term  it  curiosity,"  and  he  laughed 
in  amusement,  at  her  expense. 

"It  is  only  for  you  to  elect,"  said  the  matron,  "where 
you  will  go.  Later,  I  will  take  you  through  one  of  the 
worst  wards,  and  if  you  are  not  then  satisfied,  you  can 
see  more." 

She  was  unlocking  a  door  which  opened  into  a  sunny 
corridor  which,  having  a  strip  of  bright  carpet  running 
through  it,  was  hung  with  pictures,  and  a  large  stand  of 
green  plants  was  seen  at  the  wide  window  at  the  further 
end.  The  doors  of  the  neat  bedrooms  opened  into  the 
hall,  and  the  inmates  sat  or  walked  about  on  every  side. 

Just  as  the  door  swung  to  behind  them,  a  tall  woman 
with  her  front  hair  in  curl-papers  seized  the  major  by  the 
arm. 

"  You  never  delivered  that  note  I  gave  you !  I  know 
you  never  did  !  "  she  cried,  vehemently.  "  If  you  did,  why 
don't  he  come  to  see  me  ?  You  are  trying  your  best  to 
prevent  him  from  marrying  me,  but  he  promised  to  do  it, 
and  will,  if  you  do  not  break  it  up ! "  and  her  expression 
of  angry  impatience  somewhat  discomposed  Mrs.  Mather, 
who  clung  close  to  the  matron. 

"  She  is  harmless,"  said  Mrs.  Duncan. 

"  Oh,  now,  Mrs.  Small !  don't  scold  me  so.  You  know 
I  am  willing  to  help  you  all  I  can,"  said  the  major,  taking 
her  by  the  hand.  She  snatched  it  away. 

"  You  are  not !  What  do  you  want  to  tell  that  for  ? 
What  have  you  got  against  me,  anyhow  ? " 

"Well,"  was  his  answer,  "I  really  do  not   approve  of 


SANE  AND  INSANE.  ~~ 

those  thing-um-bobs  in  your  hair.  If  you  want  to  please 
the  doctor  you  must  take  them  down,  you  know." 

She  struck  fiercely  at  his  hand,  but  a  gleam  of  amuse- 
ment showed  in  her  eye,  although  she  tried  to  look  as  cross 
as  she  could. 

"  There  now !  you  look  much  prettier  already,"  said  the 
major,  in  a  bantering  tone,  "you  will  be  much  more  likely 
to  win  him  if  you  smile." 

"  Oh,  go  away  !  "  was  the  sharp  reply. 

"  She  is  not  really  sincere  in  that  talk,  is  she  ?"  said  Mrs. 
Mather  to  the  matron  as  they  passed  on. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  tell.  She  talks  it  every  waking 
moment,"  answered  Mrs.  Duncan. 

They  looked  into  the  neat  rooms  with  their  clean  white 
beds,  and  saw  old  women  lying  quietly  upon  the  couches, 
and  touched  their  wrinkled  hands  with  their  young  fresh 
palms,  as  the  aged  patients  looked  up  with  a  degree  of 
interest  and  pleasure  in  their  feeling  eyes.  One  pale, 
slender  girl,  whose  thin  hands  and  hopeless  face  stopped 
Mahala's  feet,  begged  to  be  allowed  to  kiss  her. 

"  She  is  very  gentle,"  said  the  matron,  and  Mahala  lent 
her  round  cheek  to  the  wistful  caress. 

Some  patients  flung  themselves  around  in  impatient 
scorn  of  the  visitors  as  they  came  in  view,  but  many  fol- 
lowed softly  along  with  the  party  and  gently  touched  their 
garments  or  their  hands. 

They  looked  into  a  large  room  where  were  cases  filled 
with  books,  some  lounges,  work-tables,  and  a  piano. 

A  girl  with  short  hair  and  the  Usual  emaciation  which 
attends  the  "  mind  diseased "  was  playing  an  accompani- 


3o  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

ment  which  did  not  chord  with  an  incoherent  song  she  was- 
singing,  but  which  seemed  to  give  great  pleasure  to  the 
performer. 

They  remarked  that  there  seemed  to  be  no  association 
among  the  inmates.  Each  patient  was  alone,  with  her  own 
delusion  or  fantastic  imaginings.  Those  who  sat  near 
seldom  spoke  to  each  other,  and  when  one  was  in  any  way 
refractory,  the  others  merely  stood  around  and  laughed 
wildly  at  the  scene  or  paid  no"  attention  to  it. 

"They  do  not  associate  or  sympathize,"  said  the  lady 
who  was  in  charge.  "  It  is  this  fact  which  makes  it  safe 
and  possible  for  two  attendants  alone  to  manage  a  whole 
ward." 

Up  stairs  and  down  stairs,  unlocking  doors,  speaking 
with  attendants,  and  looking  with  pitying  eyes  upon  scores 
of  demented  human  beings,  they  went,  until  almost 
bewildered  with  a  repetition  of  the  same  sad  scene. 

Once  they  met  a  beautiful  lady  with  gray  puffs  at  the 
side  of  her  face,  who  came  with  a  graceful  walk  into  the 
hall.  She  was  attired  in  a  handsome  calling  costume. 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Duncan.  Ah,  major,  I  am  glad 
to  see  you  within  our  precincts  once  more,"  she  said,  with 
a  perfectly  possessed  air  and  t*he  general  style  of  a  well- 
bred  lady.  She  was  introduced  to  the  visitors  as  Mrs, 
Clapham  ;  and  greeting  them  in  a  queenly  manner,  invited 
them  to  come  to  her  room,  and  rest  when  they  were  tired. 

"  I  have  just  been  over  to  town,  to  the  dentist.  A  most 
unpleasant  ordeal,  I  think  we  all  find  it,  but  nevertheless 
an  act  of  prudence.  I  shall  be  ready  to  receive  at  any 
time  ;  until  then,  good-by,"  and  she  sailed  away  down  the 
hall. 


SANE  AND  INSANE,  8j 

"  She  is  doubtless  some  official,  or  the  wife  of  some  of 
the  doctors,"  Mrs.  Mather  had  whispered  to  Margery. 

"The  lady  we  just  met  is  — "  Miss  St.  John  began, 
inquiringly. 

"  Is  a  patient." 

"  Not  insane ! " 

"  Yes,  and  sometimes  very  troublesome.  But  again,  as 
to-day,  she  has  lucid  intervals,  when  she  can  be  allowed  to 
go  to  town,  but  with  always  some  watchful  eyes  upon  her," 
and  Mrs.  Duncan  smiled  at  the  surprise  of  the  unsophisti- 
cated visitors. 

"Would  you  like  to  visit  a  bad  ward  now?"  she  said, 
turning,  key  in  hand,  before  a  door.  "  You  will  perhaps 
not  feel  like  speaking  to  any  here,  as  they  are  sometimes 
excitable.  Shall  we  go  in  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  St.  John. 

"  Yes,"  echoed  her  niece,  more  faintly. 

"  Shall  we  ? "  said  Mrs.  Mather  to  Margery,  who  did  not 
seem  very  anxious  to  do  so. 

"  O,  I  do  not  know  ;  well,  yes,  if  all  wish  it,"  said  Mar- 
gery, gathering  up  her  courage  with  a  long  breath ;  and 
they  went  in. 

The  ward  was  perfectly  neat  and  clean,  with,  however, 
no  superfluous  ornamentation.  "  Nothing  that  will  smash 
or  tear,"  the  major  said,  quietly.  "You  will  have  ob- 
served," he  continued,  "that  we  have  no  patients  under 
any  fixed  restraint.  We  profess  to  live  up  to  the  most  in- 
telligent and  humane  ideas  in  the  care  of  the  insane  in  this 
institution,  and  you  will  see  that  the  superintendent  car- 
ries the  principle  of  non-restraint  into  the  wards  where  are 
w.  &  w.— 6 


g2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

the  most  violent  sufferers.  The  restraining  hands  of 
attendants  are  always  ready  to  prevent  injury  to  them- 
selves or  others,  but  we  use  no  gyves  or  fetters." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  matron,  "  in  this  liberation  of  the 
violent  ones,  we  consider  that  the  Connecticut  stands  ahead 
of  other  State  hospitals." 

"  Is  Maggie  out  of  her  room  to-day,  Mrs.  Duncan  ? " 
said  the  major. 

"  O,  yes,  she  is  here,  and  quite  enjoying  herself." 

They  looked,  and  there  upon  a  bench  sat  a  woman  with 
a  shock  of  brick-red  hair,  a  face  covered  with  large  freckles 
and  spotted  with  a  hectic  flush.  Her  light  eyes  glanced 
continuously  from  one  thing  to  another,  seeing  nothing, 
and  as  she  drew  up  and  straightened  out  her  bare  legs  they 
saw  that  she  wore  a  dress  of  heavy  sailcloth  which  hung  in 
shreds  around  the  bottom  and  came  just  below  her  knees. 
From  the  short  sleeves  protruded  thin  and  cordy  arms,  and 
in  her  claw-like  hand  she  held  a  piece  of  thick  canvas. 
This  she  was  biting  and  tearing  with  her  jagged  yellow 
teeth,  and  occasionally  emitted  a  wild  shriek. 

"  She  is  comparatively  quiet  to-day,  so  we  brought  her 
out  of  her  room,"  said  the  woman  in  attendance  to  the 
matron. 

Miss  St.  John  thought,  "  What  a  subject  for  a  painter !  " 

Mahala  had  taken  refuge  behind  the  form  of  the  major, 
who  assured  her  that  the  maniac  was  under  the  watchful 
eye  of  her  attendant,  although  not  in  any  way  restrained 
by  straps  or  straight-jacket. 

"  O  !  Julie's  fainting,"  said  Mahala,  suddenly. 

"  No,  I  am  not,"  said  the  little  lady,  "  but  I  am  sick ; 


SANE  AND  INSANE.  g, 

shocked  to  the  core.  Let  us  get  out  of  here !  O,  that 
there  are  such  possibilities  as  that  for  any  of  us."  She 
shuddered  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

Margery  clasped  her  friend's  waist  and  they  shortly 
-emerged  into  the  center,  or  officer's  department,  "which  is 
where  ostensibly  sane  people  reside,"  said  the  major, 
smiling. 

They  sat  resting  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  pleasant  parlor 
set  apart  for  Mrs.  Duncan ;  and  the  major,  who  had  pre- 
viously excused  himself  at  the  door,  came  back  with  a 
young  physician,  whom  he  introduced,  and  asked  to 
accompany  them  to  the  south  side. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  this  officer,  "  that  our  superintendent 
is  at  present  away  and  that  so  poor  a  representative  as  my- 
self is  left  to  do  the  honors  of  the  institution.  I  trust, 
however,  that  you  will  receive  every  attention.  I  am  glad 
to  do  all  in  my  power  to  make  your  visit  a  pleasant  one." 

Mrs.  Mather  replied  politely  to  the  seeming  cordiality  of 
the  doctor,  as  they  proceeded  on  their  way ;  but  he  was 
evidently  not  able  to  devote  much  time  to  the  entertain- 
ment of  the  ladies,  and  when  they  met  an  assistant  phys- 
ician in  the  halls,  he  excused  himself,  delegating  his  office 
to  Doctor  Manly,  who  made  the  other's  place  good  and 
accompanied  them  with  respectful  kindness  through  the 
south  side,  or  men's  department. 

They  found  that  the  acumen  of  strangers  was  sadly  tried 
in  passing  among  this  motley  crowd.  They  shrank  back 
from  a  young  man  whose  eyes,  "in  fine  frenzy  rolling," 
evidently  meant  mischief,  and  were  introduced  to  a  gentle- 
manly attendant.  They  engaged  in  a  pleasant  talk  with 


g^  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

an  elegant  gentleman  who  told  them  astonishing  things 
about  the  institution,  and  were  laughingly  requested  by  the 
major  not  to  waste  any  more  time  on  that  lunatic.  They 
had  commented  freely  on  the  beauty  of  a  certain  young 
lady  on  the  north  side,  and  were  somewhat  confused  when 
she  smiled  very  sanely  and  informed  them  that  she  was  in 
charge  of  some  patients,  and  did  not  need  their  pity. 

A  noticeable  object  among  the  men  was  Mr.  Murphy. 
He  stood  out  in  the  hall,  his  spare  form  animated  by  the 
music  which  was  thrumming  in  the  parlor,  and  his  feet 
trotting  out  every  note.  His  small  skull  was  covered  by 
a  thin  parchment-like  skin  drawn  tightly  over  it.  A  sparse 
growth  of  white  hair  covered  his  cranium,  and  his  fleshless 
face  was  adorned  with  one  blind  eye.  His  nose  and  chin 
were  becoming  near  neighbors  over  his  shrunken  lips, 
which,  parting,  disclosed  two  teeth  only  upon  the  lower 
jaw.  His  natural  charms  were  enhanced  by  a  red  silk 
handkerchief  which  he  wore  under  a  much-prized  straw 
hat,  the  corners  of  which  hung  down  beside  his  amiable 
countenance  in  the  most  jaunty  manner.  His  politeness 
upon  introduction  was  extreme,  and  he  thought  he  saw  a 
resemblance  in  Margery  to  her  father,  whom  he  considered 
a  handsome  man.  This  gave  rise  to  sad  memories,  and  he 
wept.  "  As  for  me,"  said  he,  in  a  broken  voice,  "  I  resem- 
ble my  poor  mother."  They  were  sorry  the  old  lady  was 
dead,  but  were  willing  to  forego  a  vision  of  like  feminine 
beauty. 

That  some  of  these  unaccountable  creatures  like  fun  and 
even  perpetrate  a  pun  upon  occasions  was  seen.  A  power- 
ful man,  playfully  called  "  Old  Cobby,"  upon  introduction, 


SANE  AND  INSANE.  85 

opened  conversation  by  saying  to  Mrs.  Mather,  "  I  am  go- 
ing to  hammer  you."  The  Major,  appreciating  his  little 
joke,  squared  off  as  if  to  defend  her,  and  gave  him  a  little 
tap  on  the  nose,  whereupon  he  pretended  to  be  dreadfully 
frightened,  said  he  did  not  mean  it,  and  begged  pardon. 

The  doctor,  assisting  the  fun,  pointed  to  a  little  eruption 
on  his  cheek  and  asked,  "Is  that  where  he  hit  you,  Cobby  ? " 
when  he  quickly  rejoined,  "  O,  no !  that's  where  I  boiled 
over  a.  little."  Then  becomhig  suddenly  dignified,  he 
made  a  courtly  bow  to  Miss  St.  John,  and  said,  "Could 
you  favor  me  with  a  chew  of  tobacco,  madam  ? " 

At  the  hour  of  noon  they  were  enabled,  through  the 
kindness  of  the  doctor,  to  see  some  of  the  patients  at  table. 
The  insane  men  behaved  generally  with  great  propriety  at 
dinner.  One,  who  labored  under  the  impression  that  he 
was  the  King  of  Ireland,  was  very  polite,  assisting  all 
around  him  to  whatever  they 'wished,  and  carried  himself 
with  princely  condescension  and  kindness.  This  was  en- 
tirely unexpected,  as  he  was  usually  anything  but  urbane 
in  manner.  It  had  been  his  habit  to  thrust  his  head  under 
a  faucet  of  running  water  many  times  a  day,  and  visitors 
felt  inclined  to  shrink  behind  a  corner  as  he  came  down 
through  the  hall,  his  wild  eyes  rolling  and  his  hair  dripping 
with  water,  as  he  fiercely  asserted  his  claims  to  the  throne. 
A  most  venerable  old  man,  whose  resemblance  to  William 
Cullen  Bryant  was  remarkable,  sat  at  the  end  of  a  table, 
accepting  the  viands  offered  him  with  a  quiet  grace. 

"  Red  Patsy "  was  an  attractive  individual,  who  had 
gorged  himself  to  repletion,  and  sat  lazily  contemplating 
the  world  over  his  ponderous  body.  He  certainly  weighed 


gg  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

three  hundred  pounds.  His  Henry  the  Eighth  head  and 
face  bristled  with  short  red  hair,  and  his  skin  was  of  the 
same  brilliant  hue.  They  were  told  by  Dr.  Manly  that 
Patsy  was  formerly  a  great  fighter,  sending  terror  to  all 
hearts  when  angry ;  but  he  is  now  settled  into  imbecility, 
knowing  just  enough  to  eat. 

One  man  confided  to  Margery  that  he  had  eaten  one 
hundred  and  fourteen  potatoes.  He  said  he  sometimes 
composed  poetry,  and  proceeded  to  repeat  some .  which 
was  certainly  remarkable. 

"But,"  said  he,  "it's  an  awful  hard  job  to  be  deranged 
the  year  around." 

They  visited  the  Annex,  where  insane  convicts  are  con- 
fined. They  peeped  into  the  laundry  and  sewing-rooms. 
They  wondered  at  the  enormous  kitchen  and  larder,  and 
confessed  themselves  tired  and  their  minds  full  of  inter- 
esting remembrances. 

After  a  lunch,  which  was  hospitably  tendered  them  by 
Mrs.  Duncan,  they  went  to  the  South  Hospital,  where 
incurable  patients  are  kept.  There  they  met  Doctor 
Dempster,  who  has  this  department  in  charge,  and  after  a 
short  look  about  this  new  building,  with  all  its  modern 
improvements,  of  which  the  doctor  is  justly  proud,  they 
rested  in  the  cosy  sitting-room  belonging  to  the  physician 
and  his  wife.  They  were  surfeited  with  pitiful  sights,  and 
glad  of  the  change  to  agreeable  and  intelligent  conversa- 
tion. Their  entertainer  here  was  a  very  fluent  talker, 
and  the  flood  of  anecdotes,  quotations,  comparisons,  and 
original  conclusions  that  fell  from  his  lips  served  to  par- 
tially dissipate  the  sense  of  horror  that  hung  over  at  least 
two  of  the  visitors. 


SANE  AND  INSANE.  g^ 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  makes  them  crazy,"  Mrs.  Mather 
had  said  to  him.  "  It  must  be  overtaxing  the  brain.  And 
yet  they  told  us  many  of  them  were  servants,  cooks,  ditch- 
diggers.  I  cannot  understand,  it." 

"Ah,  madam,"  said  the  doctor,  gallantly,  "if  we  could 
understand  it,  we  might  hope  to  prevent  much  of  the 
misery  which  the  friends  of  the  demented  undergo." 

"  The  friends  ? "  repeated  the  lady  in  some  surprise. 
"  Do  not  the  poor  victims  of  such  a  malady  suffer  beyond 
all  endurance  ?" 

"Probably  not,"  said  the  physician.  "They  rarely,  I 
might  say  never,  shed  tears,  and  are  often  happy  in  their 
delusions.  These  are  usually  of  an  exalted  character,  and, 
as  far  as  we  can  judge,  they  are  happier  than  most  sane 
people." 

"  Oh,  Doctor !  "  said  the  soft-hearted  little  chaperone, 
"you  surely  would  not  tell  me  that  the  poor  man  was 
happy  who  met  us  at  one'  door  of  a  hall,  and,  as  we  entered, 
tried  so  hard  and  yet  in  such  a  hopeless  way  to  get  out. 
He  had  on  a  shawl,  and  his  hat  was  in  his  hand,  and  he 
said  '  I  want  to  go  home.  Why  can't  I  go  home  ? '  with 
such  a  wretched  voice  and  look  of  misery — "  the  lady's 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  They  tell  me  he  never  leaves  the 
door,  in  the  vain  hope  of  returning  again  to  his  loved  ones 
at  home." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  the  doctor,  respectfully;  "that  is 
old  Whitney.  I  allowed  myself  to  be  considerably  troubled 
over  his  ungratified  longing  for  home  until  I  learned  that 
when  he  had  been  let  out  for  a  short  time  that  he  pounded 
his  wife  and  children,  and  became  the  terror  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, so  that  they  begged  us  to  take  him  back  here." 


38  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  Oh,  how  incomprehensible  !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Mather. 

"  Very ! "  said  the  doctor.    "Crazy  people  are  apt  to  be." 

"  But  are  they  mostly  made  so  by  overwork,  brain-work, 
and  a  whirl  of  excitement,  the  madness  of  Wall-street 
speculation,  or  strenuous  efforts  to  win  a  high  place  in  the 
world  ? " 

"  I  am  truly  sorry,  my  dear  Mrs.  Mather,  to  be  obliged 
to  answer  you  to  the  contrary,  but  I  will  take  a  catalogue 
(this  one  is  a  year  old,  I  see,  but  it  will  serve  our  purpose 
as  well  as  another),  and  read  you  some*  facts.  I  am  not  a 
Gradgrind,  but  facts  are  stubborn  things." 

"  Girls,  you  must  all  hear  this,"  said  the  lady ;  "  we  are 
going  to  find  out  from  statistics  what  makes  people  insane." 

"  While  not  willing  to  say  that  I  can  answer  so  intri- 
cate and  baffling  a  question,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a 
deprecating  smile,  "  I  merely  intend  to  show  that  it  is 
frequently  monotony  that  kills  the  intellect.  That  it  is 
not  those  who  are  pleasantly  occupied  with  a  pursuit 
which  is  interesting  and  varied,  even  though  it  may  be 
somewhat  exciting,  who  oftenest  lose  their  reason." 

"  Pardon  me,  Doctor !  "  interposed  Miss  St.  John,  in  her 
crisp  way;  "can  you  judge  the  whole  subject  by  the  pa- 
tients who  come  to  you  here  ?  In  the  first  place,  Connec- 
ticut has  no  hurrying,  scurrying,  tearing,  and  nerve-des- 
troying metropolis.  Our  small  cities  are  steady-going 
places.  Secondly,  is  it  not  a  fact  that  you  do  not  receive 
the  wealthier  class  of  patients  ?  Are  they  not  in  private 
asylums  ? " 

"Miss  St.  John,"  said  the  doctor,  "your  points  are  well 
taken.  I  can  only  say  that  I  think  you  will  not  find  any 
great  difference  between  the  occupations  of  the  patients 


SANE  AND  INSANE.  gg 

in  other  State  asylums  and  those  of  ours.  As  to  the  men 
of  brains,  of  professional  callings,  and  busy  lives,  you  are 
perhaps  right  in  supposing  that  their  friends  are  apt  to 
place  them  in  some  smaller  and  more  expensive  hospital, 
feeling  a  repulsion  to  sending  them  to  a  hospital  in  part 
supported  by  the  State.  Still,  as  their  cases  prove  obsti- 
nate or  of  long  duration,  they  are  very  generally  sent  here. 
But  even  allowing  for  a  large  percentage  of  unknown 
brain-  workers  who  have  gone  '  daft,'  the  showing  is  a 
surprisingly  large  majority  of  people  who  have  mentally 
stagnated.  It  is  no  doubt  a  surprise  to  most  people  to 
see,  upon  a  study  of  these  tables,  that  it  is  not  those  who 
lead  lives  of  business,  distracted  by  the  turmoil  and  excite- 
ment of  the  world,  who  lose  Jtheir  reason,  but  rather  those 
who  rust  out ;  those  who  are  crushed  by  the  hopeless 
monotony  and  ceaseless  grind  of  uninteresting  work. 
Out  of  the  two  thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-three 
patients  admitted  from  the  beginning  up  to  the  time  this 
catalogue  was  made,  six  hundred  and  ninety-nine  are 
housewives  and  domestics." 

"  Of  course,  the  majority  of  female  patients  are  entered 
under  these  two  heads,"  spoke  up  Miss  St.  John. 

"  But,  here  are  two  hundred  and  sixty-two  farmers ;  of 
day-laborers,  two  hundred  and  twenty-six ;  of  factory 
employees,  one  hundred  and  twenty-six.  Consider  these 
figures  as  against  one  broker,  three  engineers,  two  lawyers, 
five  physicians,  and  three  telegraph  operators.  Saloon- 
keepers, it  seems,  are  kept  bright  and  sane  by  an  occa- 
sional fight,  or  a  visit  from  a  customer's  irate  wife ;  here 
are  only  four.  Landlords  meet  with  a  constant  variety  in 
the  different  excuses  as  to  delinquent  rent,  in  the  unex- 


QO  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

pected  departure  of  a  tenant  whose  money  was  due,  in 
inventing  plausible  reasons  for  not  doing  repairs,  saying, 
'Why,  the  house  does  not  carry  itself  now,  sir.'  Only  one 
landlord  has  been  wrecked  in  the  storm  of  life.  Seriously, 
it  is  monotony,  routine,  that  destroys  the  mental  faculties. 
See  again,  thirty-nine  seamstresses  have  gone  crazy, 
stitching  on 

"  '  Band  and  gusset  and  seam, 

Seam  and  gusset  and  band, 
Till  the  heart  is  sick  and  the  brain  benumbed, 
As  well  as  the  weary  hand.' 

"  Yet  only  two  milliners.  They  can  pin  on  a  knot  of 
ribbon  and  a  bunch  of  plumes  and  tell  Miss  McFlimsy 
that  '  it 's  a  little  beauty,  modeled  after  a  Paris  hat,  and  so 
cheap  at  twenty-five  dollars.'  " 

Mahala  was  a  little  doubtful  if  the  doctor  was  not  run- 
ning on  in  this  light  manner  to  relieve  their  minds  of  any 
unpleasant  impressions  which  might  remain  from  the 
pitiable  objects  they  had  seen  lying  and  sitting  about  in 
the  wards  by  scores. 

Miss  St.  John  considered  it  a  very  attractive  way  of 
putting  hard  facts.  They  thanked  the  genial  doctor  who 
had  done  so  much  for  their  entertainment  and  instruction, 
and  returned  to  the  entrance  of  the  main  building,  where 
they  had  left  their  wheels.  He  insisted  upon  seeing  them 
off  and  walked  over  with  the  major  to  see  them  mount  and 
run  their  curious  vehicles. 

"  I  shall  fear  going  crazy  constantly,"  said  Margery, 
"  after  this  day." 

"I  shall  not,"  declared  Mahala,  T  never  was  so  sure  of 
my  sanity  in  my  life." 


CHAPTER    IX. 


M  AH  ALA  looked  out  of  the  window. 
"  Now  this  looks,  as  Joe  would  say,  'rather  jubious/ 
What  is  to  be  done?  Here  we  are,  miserable  prisoners  in 
this  town,  which  yesterday  seemed  so  beautiful.  All 
because  of  the  rain.  Say!  who  has  rubbers  —  any  one? 
We  have  our  umbrellas,  if  we  had  only  thought  of  rubbers ! 

"I  have  mine,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  with  a  superior  air, 
"  and  will  lend  them.  For  my  part,  I  think  a  rainy  day 
not  much  loss.  There  is  a  lovely  old  highboy  in  the 
kitchen  and  a  quaint  side-board  in  the  dining-room  of 
which  I  shall  make  a  sketch." 

"Of  course,"  merrily  rang  out  Mrs.  Mather's  voice, 
"  there  is  always  something  an  artist  can  take  hold  of  for 
diversion.  Mike,  where  do  you  suppose  I  found  your 
industrious  aunt  this  morning  before  breakfast  ?  At  work 
on  some  old  barrels  in  the  door-yard  there,  one  tub  half 
full  of  water,  and  a  quantity  of  other  wet  truck  that  she 
said  were  delightful  bits  for  light  and  reflections ;  and 
really  they  did  look  so,  after  she  had  caugh't  the  effect  with 
her  pen  and  ink.  I  don't  see  how  she  does  it !  and  the 
way  she  works  while  I  sit  idly  gazing  is  a  marvel  to  me. 

(90 


g2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

She  has  that  sketch-book  three-quarters  full  now,  and  here 
we  are  only  a  week  out." 

Miss  St.  John  smiled  at  this  effusion,  but  was  too  intent 
upon  her  work  on  an  old  tumbledown  mill  which  could  be 
seen  from  the  window,  to  give  any  expression  to  her 
thoughts. 

The  raindrops  fell  from  the  eaves  with  steady  plash  and 
patter  upon  the  line  of  pebbles  below.  The  wet  wood  was 
delicious  in  its  darkness,  and  as  the  moist  herbage  stood 
erect  and  dripping  with  the  rain,  the  vines  surging  to  and 
fro  in  the  wind,  loosened  here  and  there  in  swinging  ends 
from  their  support,  it  was  in  some  respects  more  satisfying 
to  sit  and  idly  gaze  than  to  make  even  an  attempt  to  depict 
the  beauty  one  could  not  but  feel. 

"  Come,  Margie,  you  and  I  can  venture  out.  Let  Aunt 
Dude  and  the  devoted  wife  meditate  and  work  at  their 
pleasure.  We  will  have  some  fun,  if  it  can  be  found  in 
this  stupid  —  " 

"  Now,  Mahala,  don't  call  this  place  any  bad  names  !  It 
is  just  charming  here,  and  I  think  this  is  almost  the  best 
day  yet.  This  rain  will  soon  cease  and  we  may  get  a  gray 
day,  by  way  of  variety.  These  autumn  colors  do  come 
out  so  forcibly  against  a  gray  sky.  I  never  half  realize 
the  gorgeousness  of  this  turning  foliage  till  I  see  it  in  con- 
trast with  the  grayness  about  and  above.  Do  come  and 
see  it,  Mike." 

"Yes,  aunty  sweet,  I  know  it  all.  I  am  just  getting  on 
my  boots,  though,  and  hunting  out  your  rubbers  from  the 
family  trunk,  so  please  forgive  me  if  I  only  turn  my  mental 
eyes  to  the  appreciation  of  your  divine  scenery.  My 
material  optics  are  turned  to  my  bodily  needs  at  present." 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  g^ 

Here  she  dragged  the  long-sought-for  rubber  shoes  from 
their  tight  pack  near  the  bottom  of  the  trunk. 

"  Say,  girls  !  what  do  you  think  about  peanuts  ?  Let's 
have  some,  and  some  molasses  candy  !  I  wouldn  't  talk  so 
much  if  I  had  something  to  chew  on  occasionally.  Cara- 
mels, for  instance.  Caramels  !  Fifteen  cents  a  quarter!" 
sang  out  Mahala,  as  she  skipped  across  the  room,  swinging 
Margery  around  in  a  deux  temps  till  they  both  lost  balance 
and  came  plump  against  Mrs.  Mather,  nearly  upsetting  her 
in  the  mad  whirl. 

"Ah,  Madame  Julie,  pardon!  pardon,  Je  vous  prie"  cried 
Mahala,  and,  in  turn,  she  caught  that  little  lady  and  per- 
formed a  similar  escapade, 

"  Come,  come,  Mike,"  endeavored  Margery,  in  persuasion. 
"  Let  us  be  off,  or  the  rain  will  be  over,  and  we  shall  have 
not  half  so  much  sport  as  to  go  with  umbrellas  and  water- 
proofs." 

"  I  am  all  ready  now,"  said  Mahala,  and  the  two  sallied 
forth. 

"Dude,  do  you  think  I  might  try  to  make  that  tree? 
Lend  me  one  of  your  pencils.  I  have  some  paper." 

"  Surely,  you  may  try,  Julie,"  said  the  artist,  who  was 
always  ready  and  pleased  to  encourage  any  attempts  in  her 
friends  to  catch  a  reflection  of  the  face  of  nature.  "  That 
is  an  admirable  subject  for  a  trial." 

Mrs.  Mather  made  a  fe*w  traces  resembling  a  tree  and 
then  her  pencil  glided  off  into  something  like  this  : 

"  MY  DEAREST  OLD  FRED: — If  that  door  would  only 
open  and  you  would  walk  your  dear  self  through  it,  I 
should  be  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  ecstatic  bliss  ;  i.  e.,  I 


g^  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

should  be  in  your  arms  in  a  twinkling.  Those  girls  are 
just  off  for  a  frolic,  and  I  shall  get  a  chance  to  drop  this 
little  note  (if  they  remain  long  enough,  it  may  be  extended 
to  a  letter)  in  the  mail  to-night.  I  thought  of  trying  to 
telephone  you  yesterday,  I  did  so  want  to  know  if  you  had 
returned  from  your  hunting  expedition  all  right  and  well. 
But  Miss  St.  John  will  be  wanting  to  look  at  my  tree, 
which  I  began,  so  I  will  wait  now  till  she  has  approved  of 
my  sketch,  and  I  haply  find  her  in  a  more  absorbed  state  in 
regard  to  her  own  work." 

The  girls  went  down  the  street,  through  and  around  in- 
numerable puddles,  passing  under  the  dripping  trees, 
which  showered  them  from  the  tips  of  their  wet  leaves  as 
the  wind  soughed  through  their  heavy  branches,  and 
stepped  gingerly  across  the  little  rivulets  that  ran  across 
the  path.  A  procession  of  waddling  ducks  was  coming  up 
from  an  adjacent  pond,  quack-quacking  as  they  marched  in 
irregular  single  file.  They  squawked  and  spattered  along 
in  loud  consternation,  making  little  dives  and  dips  with 
their  broad  bills  as  the  strangers  drove  them  before. 

Proceeding  further  the  two  unabashed  misses  stopped  a 
milk-wagon,  and  each  took  a  pint  of  fresh  milk  from  the  top 
of  the  can,  paying  double  price  for  the  detention  of  the 
cart.  But  whether  the  extra  bit,  or  Mahala's  enlivening 
remarks  upon  the  occasion,  most  pleased  the  astonished 
driver  of  the  steady  establishment,  it  is  not  for  us  to  say. 

"  Now,  will  you  please  direct  us  to  the  drug  store  ? "  said 
Margery,  in  a  manner  so  sweet  that  the  young  man  said 
he  would  carry  them  there  if  they  wished.  It  was  quite  a 
walk  in  a  stormy  day. 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  ~$ 

"Oh,  but  that  is  too  much  trouble  for  you.  We  could 
not  think  of  taking  your  time  for  that,"  said  Margery. 

"Not  at  all!  not  at  all,  miss.  I  was  just  going  down 
that  way  myself."  A  curious  fact,  considering  the  direc- 
tion of  the  horse's  head. 

Mahala  nudged  Margery.  "  Let's  !  "  said  she,  in  under- 
tone. 

"Well,  we  certainly  would  be  glad  of  the  ride,"  said 
Margery,  "  if  you  are  surely  going  that»way.  Thank  you  !  " 

They  were  soon  handed  down  at  the  drug  store,  much 
to  the  excitement  of  those  rainy-day  loungers  who  seem  to 
be  indigenous  to  country  stores.  The  milkman  was  fully 
rewarded  for  his  part,  by  the  interest  and  evident  curiosity 
which  was  displayed  by  the  heads  at  the  glass  in  the  door. 
They  plainly  could  not  explain  the  advent  of  such  pretty 
faces,  in  such  weather,  and  with  Silas  Bound ! 

Your  real  country  lady  has  a  fixed  antipathy  to  going 
out  of  doors  in  the  rain. 

The  idlers  within  the  store  speedily  dispersed,  only  one 
or  two  of  the  more  courageous  remaining  to  see  what  the 
young  ladies  came  to  buy,  and  to  ascertain,  if  possible, 
where  they  came  from.  One  of  these  took  refuge  behind 
the  well-thumbed  morning  paper,  and  another  picked  his 
teeth  meditatively  with  a  pine  sliver  as  he  stared  at  the 
rows  of  jars  upon  the  top  shelf. 

MAHALA  —  "  Do  you  keep  peanuts,  sir  ? " 

DRUGGIST  —  "  No,  miss.     You  will  find  them  next  door, 

MAHALA —  "  Any  caramels  ? " 

DRUGGIST  —  "  Those  you  will  also  find  at  the  store 
above  here." 


06  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

MAHALA —  "  Peppermints  ?  " 

DRUGGIST  (promptlyX — "Oh,  yes,  we  have  all  the  medic- 
inal confectionery.  One-quarter  of  a  pound,  did  you  say  ? " 

MAHALA  (laying  down  the  change) — "Any  lime  drops  ? " 

DRUGGIST  (with  increasing  alacrity)  —  "Very  fine  fresh 
ones,  miss.  One-quarter  of  a  pound  ?  Thank  you  ! " 

"Hello-o! "  came  in  stentorian  tones  from  the  back  part 
of  the  store. 

The  girls  jumped  as  if  struck. 

"Do  not  be  startled,  ladies,"  said  the  polite  apothecary, 
"it's  only  the  telephone  and  the  new  clerk." 

"  Who  is  it  ? "     A  pause. 

"Well,  who  is  it?" 

"  Stop  buzzing  so,  or  I  can't  hear  a  blamed  word." 

"Stop  your  own  noise  and  listen,  boy,"  quietly  com- 
manded the  patient  pharmacist.  "  Listen ! " 

"Yes,  who?     Collinses?    Yes!     How  much  baggage  ?" 

"Oh  !  Four  packages.  All  right.  Two  colic  plasters. 
Colored  lasting  ?  "  "Well,  I  thought  not"  Mahala  snick- 
ered. Margery  passed  her  handkerchief  over  her  mouth. 

"  All  right !     What  ?     Two  dudes  ? " 

Mahala  laughed  outright. 

Poor  clerk,  with  a  very  red  face, — "Wait  a  minute.  I'll 
get  a  piece  of  paper  and  take  it  down." 

"  Hello  !     Go  on  !  " 

"Who  are  you  talking  with  ?  It's  me,  Mr.  Opdyke." 
He  straightened  himself  up  as  he  threw  a  glance  over  at 
the  young  ladies  and  stroked  his  smooth  jaw.  Another 
anxious  time  of  listening  at  the  tube. 

"He  wants  you,  Mr.  Smythe,"  and  that  gentleman  re- 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  g« 

lieved  him  at  the  telephone,  while  Opdyke,  a  little  crest- 
fallen, presented  himself  behind  the  counter  to  receive 
further  orders  from  the  customers.  They  had,  however, 
completed  their  purchases,  and  with  suppressed  mirth  were 
making  their  way  out  as  fast  as  possible. 

"  Where  now,"  said  Margery,  as  they  stood  upon  the 
sidewalk.  "Suppose  we  go  to  the  dry  goods  store.  I 
want  to  get  something  pretty,  to  fix  over  Mrs.  Furness's 
bonnet.  It  is  altogether  too  shabby  for  the  poor  thing.  It 
will  delight  her  to  somewhat  approximate  present  fashions. 
She  is  so  overcome  with  our  style,  as  she  calls  it." 

"Very  well.  Perhaps  we  will  see  a  little  more  of  —  of 
the  natives,  you  know.  Find  some  specimens  for  instance. 
There  go  four  ladies,  or  waterproofs,  anyway." 

"  Let's  follow." 

They  fell  in  the  rear  of  the  four  ladies,  who  entered  the 
only  dry  goods  store  in  the  place.  They  saw  a  small,  wiry, 
thin-nosed  person  in  advance  of  the  others,  and  were  just 
in  time  to  hear  her  say  to  the  girl  behind  the  counter : 
"  Have  you  any  v-very — v-very  nice  purple  gros-grained 
ribbon  ? " 

The  girl  looked  inquiringly. 

"Something  uv-very,  uv-very  fine,  you  know.  Purple 
gros-grain.  About  so  wide."  She  measured  the  width 
upon  the  forefinger  of  her  much-worn  but  carefully-mended 
glove,  with  the  black  kid  forefinger  of  the  other  hand. 
"  Best  quality.  About  so-o  wide." 

The  box  of  ribbons  was  handed  down. 

"  Is  that  the  width  you  wished,"  said  the  clerk,  as  she 
took  up  a  roll,  glancing  at  the  same  time  at  three  others, 
who  awaited  in  suspense  the  words  of  the  speaker. 
w.  &  w.— 7 


g3  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Do  you  think  so,  Mrs.  Plum?" 

"Ye-es,  the  width  is  right,  I  believe,  but  is  it  nice,  Mrs. 
Joy,  you  know  !  " 

Mrs.  Joy  took  it  in  her  hand,  and  after  fingering  it  care- 
fully, held  it  to  the  light. 

"Well,"  she  said,  with  the  deliberation  befitting  so 
important  a  question,  "  I  think  a  great  deal  of  color.  Yes, 
this  is  good  color.  Royal  purple.  Will  wear  well,  I  judge. 
You  know  we  want  it  to  wear  well.  What  do  you  think, 
Mrs.  Bliss?" 

fc  O,  it  is  all  right  if  you  think  so,  Mrs.  Joy.  You  are 
such  a  good  judge." 

"  Perhaps/'  assented  the  other,  modestly  ;  "but  you  have 
had  actual  experience,"  Then  sympathetically,  "  I  know 
that  Mr.  Bliss  handled  the  others  twelve  years." 

"  Yes,  true,"  sighed  Mrs.  Bliss,  and  looked  around  with 
a  sense  of  her  large  responsibility  in  the  matter. 

"What  did  you  say  was  the  price?  "asked  the  first 
speaker,  with  a  little  sharpness, 

"  One  dollar  and  a  half  a  yard." 

"A  dollar  and  a  half?"  the  thin  little  lady  repeated. 
She  looked  inquiringly  at  the  faces  of  the  other  three,  who 
had  gathered  near. 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say  a  dollar  and  a  half  a 
yard  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  It  is  too  much  !  " 

"Not  for  this  ribbon,"  answered  the  girl;  "it  is  the* 
best." 

"Yes,  certainly  it  must  be  the  best,"  came  in  chorus. 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  gg 

Then  the  first  speaker  leaned  confidingly  over  the 
counter  towards  the  girl.  "  Well,  you  see,"  she  said  in  an 
impressive  voice,  "it  is  for  religious  purposes.  Do  you 
think,  if  we  could  see  Mr.  King,  that  he  would  throw  a 
little  off  for  us  ? " 

Every  one  of  the  committee  bent  eagerly  forward  to 
•catch  each  word  of  the  reply,  and  as  the  girl  went  towards 
the  desk  to  speak  to  the  proprietor,  each  lady  advanced 
two  steps  in  that  direction. 

They  all  earnestly  scanned  the  features  of  the  store- 
keeper as  he  came  forward  to  deal  with  them. 

"  Mr.  King,"  said  one,  in  undertones  which  were  dis- 
tinctly heard  by  the  interested  bystanders,  "you  see  we 
want  to  buy  new  book-marks  for  our  church  pulpit.  We 
all  feel  a  deep  interest  in  getting  a  good  thing.  And 
generally,  you  know — for  religious  purposes — money  being 
raised  in  small  levyings  upon  each  member — it  is  advisable 
to  make  a  good  bargain."  Here  the  lady  srm'led  and 
looked  fascinating.  Each  other  lady  simultaneously 
smiled  and  murmured,  "As  good  a  bargain  as  we  can." 

"  You  feel  the  importance  of  this,  Mr.  King.  You 
yourself  are  a  church  member.  Baptist,  I  believe." 

Mr.  King  assented  with  a  nod. 

"  Could  you  not  do  better  with  us  than — " 

"A  dollar  and  a  half?"  put  in  the  first  speaker,  aching 
with  impatience  through  the  long  sentences  of  the  other, 
and  feeling  she  must  speak  now. 

Mr.  King  debated  a  moment  as  he  bit  the  end  of  his 
pencil.  "Profit's  little  enough,  any  way,"  he  murmured, 
"but  to  accommodate  customers — " 


1OO  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Yes,"  quickly  exclaimed  one  of  the  ladies,  thinking 
this  was  a  point  not  to  be  lost,  "church  custom  is  consid- 
erable, of  course,"  and  the  three  cast  glances  of  approval 
and  admiration  upon  the  able  diplomatist  for  her  perspi- 
cacity. 

The  store-keeper  drew  a  piece  of  wrapping-paper  towards 
him  and  made  a  few  figures  upon  it. 

"  I  suppose  I  might  call  it — dollar  thirty-seven  and  a 
half,  if  you  wanted  any  quantity."  He  looked  at  the  end 
of  the  roll.  "  I  don't  think  I  have  more  than  five  yards, 
of  that  width.  You  can  have  what  is  here  at  that  price," 
and  he  sighed  slightly. 

The  four  women  gathered  in  close  conference. 

"  You  know  we  shall  divide  the  old  ones  up  for  our  silk 
bed-quilts.  Each  one  can  have  a  strip,  if  she  likes,"  said 
the  one  called  Mrs.  Bliss. 

Mahala  had  drawn  near,  apparently  looking  at  the  things 
in  the  show-case,  while  Margery  made  her  purchase  from 
the  clerk. 

The  first  speaker  then  said  audibly,  "  Those  marks  that 
we  are  now  reluctantly  discarding,  have  been  placed  by 
holy  hands  since  1810.  Four  divines  lived  and  died  un- 
der them.  Does  Mr.  King  know  this  ?  It  may  be  so  with 
these,  if  we  buy  them  of  him."  She  cast  her  eyes  to  the 
ceiling  with  a  religious  glow  upon  her  face.  "  So  comfort- 
ing !  Isn't  it  ? " 

But  Mrs.  Joy  now  had  Mr.  King's  ear.  "We  do  not 
want  so  much  as  five  yards,"  she  said,  "but  if  we  can  have 
the  quantity  we  want  at  that  price,  we  will  take  it,  Mr. 
King." 


THE  RAINY  DAY. 


101 


Now  all  four  ladies  edged  the  counter. 

"  Two  yards  is  a  great  deal  for  three  marks." 

"  It  needs  three,  doesn't  it,  Mrs.  Bliss  ? " 

"  Three  are  desirable.     One  for  the  hymns  you  know." 

"  Yes,  one  for  the  hymns,"  in  chorus. 

"  Well  then,  that  will  make—" 

"  Could  you  measure  off  five-eighths,  Mr.  King  ?  Well, 
thank  you  ;  giving  you  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  we  fear. 
Now,  three  times  five-eighths — " 

They  all  looked  inquiringly  at  the  merchant. 

"One  yard  and  seven-eighths,"  he  answered,  after  pen- 
ciling on  the  edge  of  some  paper. 

"Well,  now,  that  is  just  it!  "  said  the  wiry  little  woman, 
who  seemed  to  stand  eminent  as  a  financier.  "  Call  it  one 
yard  and  three-quarters,  and  you'll  have  us  !  Isn't  that  so, 
ladies  ? "  said  she,  turning  to  the  others,  with  a  keen  light 
in  her  eye. 

All  assented,  with  an  anxious  glance  at  Mr.  King,  who 
was  by  this  time  pretty  well  worried  into  acquiescence  with 
anything. 

"  Mamma — rna !  Just  look  here  a  moment."  Mrs.  Joy 
went  over  to  where  stood  her  daughter,  who  had  gone  into 
the  store  a  short  time  after  the  ladies. 

"Ain't  this  handkerchief  lovely  ?  and  so  cheap  !  It's 
only  two  dollars  !  It  is  just  the  shade  I  have  hunted  and 
hunted  for.  Couldn't  find  it  in  Hartford  last  week." 

"  This  lot  came  in  only  yesterday,"  said  the  clerk. 

"  Can't  I  have  it,  mamma  ?  It  would  look  so  sweet 
w.ith  my  blue  velvet.  Just  that  shade,  Rob  says,  is  all  the 
rage.  Something  between  a  peanut-skin  red  and  an 
orange.  Neither  one  nor  the  other  !  " 


IQ2  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

"  Buy  it  if  you  wish,  my  dear.  I  am  just  now  very  busy. 
Get  it  charged,"  said  Mrs.  Joy,  as  she  turned  back  to  the 
ribbon  counter. 

"Well,  Mr.  King,"  she  resumed,  "if  all  are  agreed,  you 
may  please  cut  off  a  yard  and  seven-eighths.  Here  is  just 
the  money  for  it,"  counting  it  out.  "  One  penny  short,  by 
mistake.  Mrs.  Bliss,  have  you  another  cent  ?" 

"  Let  it  go,"  said  the  man,  with  anything  but  .a  religious 
expression  of  countenance.  Then  the  women,  all  chatting 
together,  left  the  store. 

Margery  had  found  something  very  pretty  for  an  old 
lady's  hat.  The  rain  was  now  over,  and  they  made  their 
way  home  as  fast  as  possible,  hoping  for  another  start  ort 
wheels  by  afternoon. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  artist  was  seated  in  view  of  a  barn  interior.     Mrs. 
Mather  and  Mahala  were  searching  for  amusement. 

"  Behold  her ! "  exclaimed  Mahala.  with  a  theatrical  pose, 
as  they  came  upon  Miss  St.  John,  who,  after  spending  an 
hour  in  looking  for  a  study,  finally  put  her  camp-stool  down 
under  an  old  apple-tree  and  was  taking  "  an  interior "  of 
the  most  rustic  order. 

"  True  genius  is  a  fellow  who  has  an  idea,  and  works  with 
all  his  might  to  carry  it  out.  I  say,  Aunt  Dude,  how  long 
is  that  remarkable  creature  to  consume?  I  am  pleased  to 
announce  that  the  man  has  brought  around  our  tricycles  in 
splendid  order,  although  I,  as  the  .most  cautious  member 
of  this  party,  was  very  much  afraid  to  trust  them  to  him. 
We  ought  to  make  a  good  run  in  the  next  two  hours.  I 
feel  'like  a  bird  let  loose,' "  she  sang,  in  a  sweet  voice. 

"Will  you  please  not  sing  around  her,  Mike?  See,  she 
is  a  fine  old  model,  that  bossy.  Just  look  at  her  beautiful 
eyes !  they  are  so  steadily  fixed  on  me.  If  you  will  only 
move  quietly  on  now,  you  may  tease  as  much  as  you  like 
when  I  am  through  this." 

(105) 


I06  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"O,  yes,  in  the  'sweet  bye  and  bye.'  Well,  let  us  take 
ourselves  into  the  'beautiful  beyond,'  Julie.  But  mind, 
aunty,  if  you  don't  hurry  up  I  will  be  here  again  soon  and 
assist,  or  my  name  is  not  Mike  Mahala  Wright.  Come 
Julie,"  whispered  she,  as  she  tried  to  please  her  aunt  and 
go  quietly  away,  "there's  that  rustic  drawing  water  with 
the  old  oaken  bucket;  let 's  interview  him!  Don't  he  look 
dudey  this  morning ;  actually  got  a  neck-tie  on.  He  has 
evidently  been  regarding  himself  in  the  mirror.  Do  come 
and  award  him  a  smile  of  appreciation.  I  am  frightfully 
thirsty  ;  let 's  quaff  from  the  old  bucket.  '  Touch  thy  light 
finger  to  its  metal  rim,  burnished  gold  it  becomes  to  him. 
On  its  rough  brim  rest  thy  ruby  lip ;  'twill  remain  there 
forever,  when  he  goes  for  a  dip.'  That  last  line  is  rather 
superfluous,  considering  the  meter,  but  absolutely  essential 
to  the  rhyme,  you  see !  Now,  isn't  he  a  real  specimen  ? 
Genus  homo,  species  rustico.  What  a  pity  he  is  a  little  too 
large  for  my  cyanide  bottle."  And  Mahala  ran  on  in  this 
nonsensical  strain,  as  if  she  never  had  a  serious  thought. 

She  had  been  dreamily  walking  under  some  apple-trees 
a  day  or  two  before,  when  her  eyes  suddenly  caught  a 
glimpse  of  something  clinging  to  one  of  the  tender  twigs 
which  was  not  a  leaf,  although  its  body-color  was  almost 
imperceptible  against  the  green  tree.  It  was  a  large  worm, 
with  a  brilliant  head.  The  red  knobs  which  protruded 
from  its  back  had  arrested  her  quick  eye,  and  seizing  a 
pole  which  was  in  the  yard  she  eagerly  bent  down  the 
limb  and  soon  had  in  her  hand  the  little  branch  which  held 
her  prize.  She  ran  to  her  friends,  holding  out  her  latest 
acquisition,  and  cried  in  delight,  "0,  girls,  see  what  a 


WHYS  AND   OTHER    WHYS. 


107 

lovely  thing  I  have  found  !  Joe  will  be  so  pleased.  He 
has  not  found  one  this  year." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  said  Margery,  going  to  meet  her.  "  Oh ! " 
and  she  recoiled  with  a  little  cry  of  disgust.  "A  horrible 
worm  !  What  can  you  want  of  that  ?  Throw  it  away  t 
Please  don't  put  it  near  me,  Mike ;  I  shall  die  if  you  do." 

Mahala  looked  at  her  with  a  pretense  of  scorn. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  will  trust  it  near  you.  Likely  as 
not  you  would  burn  it  up,  or  some  such  thing  !  The  poor 
thing  can't  live  much  longer,  anyway,  and  he  shall  have  a 
nice  nest  and  plenty  to  eat ;"  the  girl  stroked  his  hideous 
form  with  her  taper  forefinger. 

"Why,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  coming  up,  "what 
will  you  do  with  this  crawling  monster  ?  If  you  gently 
suffocate  him  as  you  do  your  beetles,  you  have  no  way  to 
preserve  such  a  fluid  body.  It  will  soon  decay." 

"Well!"  said  the  naturalist's  sister,  addressing  an  im- 
aginary audience  in  the  vicinity  of  the  well-curb  ;  "  I  must 
say  that  the  shameless  ignorance  of  some  people  who  pre- 
tend to  a  fair  amount  of  intelligence  is  positively  astonish- 
ing. Do  you  suppose  I  would  poison  this  gorgeous 
creature  ?  Not  for  the  world  !  Look  at  those  lovely  scarlet 
knobs  with  the  little  black  prickers  which  crown  him  right 
royally  !  See  those  little  spots  of  blue  enamel,  which  bead 
his  neck  so  beautifully  against  his  light-green  skint 
Where  can  you  find  another  such  exquisite  combination  of 
seemingly  conflicting  colors  ?  Aunty  will  appreciate  that. 
But  you  certainly  must  respect  the  spike  on  the  end  of 
his  tail. 

"Yes,  we  do!"  shuddered  Margery. 


log  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"But  you  need  not  fear;  he  is  tired  with  living.  It  is 
getting  chilly,  and  after  he  has  eaten  a  little  more  he  will 
go  into  his  winter's  sleep.  Poor  fellow  !  How  short  and 
apparently  useless  has  your  little  day  been,  and  how  soon 
<lo  you  give  it  all  up." 

"What  a  strange  combination  that  girl  is,"  said  Mar- 
gery, as  Mahala  walked  away,  tenderly  shielding  and  talk- 
ing to  the  sluggish  creature  that  clung  with  his  great  feet 
to  the  branch.  "  Her  alternations  from  boisterous  mirth 
to  the  tenderest  solicitude  for  any  beast,  and  sentimental 
soliloquies  over  objects  that  merely  fill  me  with  creeping 
•chills,  are  a  constant  surprise  to  me." 

"  Mahala  is  indeed  a  very  interesting  character,  and  not 
the  least  of  her  charms  to  me  is  her  innate  all-pervading 
love  of  nature,"  responded  Mrs.  Mather.  "She  has  a 
spontaneous  interest  in  and  love  for  everything  that  God 
has  made.  A  crawling  worm,  that  we  shrink  away  from, 
she  finds  a  fascinating  study.  A  lonely  child  or  a  sick 
mother  will  elicit  a  flow  of  sympathy  from  her  that  no 
society  queen  can  command." 

"Yes,  it  is  so,  Julie." 

On  the  morning  of  which  we  write,  the  artist  at  her 
work  and  the  two  others,  who  were  making  preparations 
to  depart,  were  startled  by  Mahala,  who  came  running  to 
them  with  a  cracked  fruit-jar  in  her  hand.  "O,  girls,  my 
beautiful  worm  is  dying  i  It 's  very  accommodating  in  him, 
certainly,  to  assume  this  portable  form,  so  I  can  send 
him  home  in  a  box.  You  know  I  have  kept  him  supplied 
with  leaves,  but  yesterday  he  stopped  eating  and  in  the 
night  he  commenced  to  spin  his  cocoon.  See !  He  is 


WHYS  AND  OTHER    WHYS.  IO^ 

weaving  his  own  shroud  of  finest  silk.  If  I  only  could 
have  seen  him  at  work !  But  he  has  taken  his  last  look  at 
earth  and  now  is  almost  hidden  from  sight.  You  can 
just  see  the  red  spots  on  his  head  down  in  this  enveloping 
case  How  he  seems  to  have  shrunk  and  dwindled  away. 
O,  the  wonder  of  it !  To  make  these  preparations  to  pre- 
serve his  chrysalis  for  another  life  in  the  spring  time.  His 
little  day  is  ended.  What  was  that  existence  for  ?  Why 
should  it  have  to  be  given  up  and  a  long  oblivion  ensue 
before  coming  out  into  the  beautiful  winged  floating  exist- 
ence in  the  future  ?  I  wonder  if  it  is  painful,  this  change  ; 
or  is  he  so  weary  and  chilled  that  he  is  glad  to  wrap  this 
mantle  around  him  and  lay  him  down  to  rest  ?  " 

"Mahala,  child,"  said  her  practical  aunt,  "do  not  trouble 
your  young  head  with  these  vain  conjectures.  It  is  after 
all  but  a  poor  worm  undergoing  a  change  which  is  inevita- 
ble in  the  order  of  things.  It  is  a  natural  transition  from 
the  worm  to  the  chrysalis,  to  the  moth,  and  again  the  egg, 
which  hatches  the  worm.  And  so  we  go,  round  and  round, 
life  after  life ;  and  so  we  wax  and  wane.  Leave  weaken- 
ing reflections,  and  do  what  we  can  as  we  go,  I  say." 

"  But,  Dude,"  gently  said  Mrs.  Mather,  "this,  being  an 
emblem  of  human  life,  and  death,  and  immortality,  it  must 
and  does  appeal  most  powerfully  to  a  thoughtful  mind." 

"  True,  Julie  !  I  merely  make  a  general  obj  ection  ta 
the  constant  turning  over  and  over  in  the  mind  of  these 
questions,  which  will  never  be  answered  in  this  world. 
As  we  do  not  know,  and  cannot  possibly  find  out  what  this 
existence  is  all  for,  let  us  do  what  we  can.  Accomplish 
something  in  this  life,  an.d  then  accept  its  termination  as- 


j  I0  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

trustingly  as  we  did  its  beginning.  We  shall  be  equally 
helpless  and  ignorant  of  the  future." 

Meantime  Miss  St.  John  had  finished  her  sketch,  and 
gotten  together  the  paraphernalia  necessary  to  her  work. 
She  now  went  to  assist  Margery,  who,  with  her  little 
housewifely  ways,  was  always  picking  up  and  settling 
things  so  as  to  make  the  progress  of  their  journey  easy 
and  comfortable.  Impatient  calls  were  heard  from  Mahala, 
and  soon  the  friends  were  assembled  at  the  gate,  ready  for 
departure.  With  many  kind  wishes  from  all  at  the  farm 
house ;  and  promises  from  the  travelers  to  return  some 
future  day,  they  took  their  leave.  Even  the  old  watch-dog 
gave  a  friendly  wag  of  the  tail  and  turned  sad  eyes  after 
them  as  the  party  rolled  off  and  were  soon  lost  to  sight. 
The  day  was  fresh  and  bright,  and  the  wheeling  good. 
The  glow  of  cheeks  and  the  flow  of  spirits  showed  this 
to  have  been  a  most  exhilarating  jaunt.  Nothing  had 
occurred  to  mar  their  vivid  enjoyment  of  the  road,  the 
scenery,  the  people.  They  were  now  prepared  with  pocket- 
luncheon  for  a  good  eight  hours'  pleasure,  with  hopes  to 
rest  at  nightfall  at  Haddam. 

"Friends,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  "you  must  let  me  halt 
at  my  first  call.  When  I  get  a  glimpse  of  a  lane  —  an 
overgrown,  weed-covered,  untraveled,  long,  winding  lane, 
vines  running  over  the  side-fences,  tumbled-down  stones, 
little  standing  pools  of  water  made  by  cattle  hoofs,  low 
bushes,  and  all  that — a  lane  such  as  one  where  my  child 
ish  feet  used  to  wander,  while  I,  picking  berries  or  flowers 
by  the  wayside,  felt  that  I  could  go  on  and  on  forever  (for 
I  never  reached  the  end),  when  I  come  on  just  such  a  per- 


WHYS  AND   OTHER    WHYS. 


Ill 


spective,  leading  out  from  the  roadside,  I  shall  call  a  halt 
and  you  may  take  a  rest. 

Here  Mahala  cried  "  Oyez — Oyez — Oyez  ! "  and  waving 
her  hand  not  ungracefully,  as  if  addressing  an  audience. 
"  When,  lying  before  me  in  dim  uncertainty  amid  the 
green  grass,  I  behold  a  hopper  of  unusual  size,  I  halt 
to  further  examine  the  creature,  if  I  cry  out  'A  specimen, . 
a  specimen  ! '  then  let  this  body  of  riders  gather  itself  in  a 
circle  around  the  animal  while  I  make  a  capture.  If  aunty 
is  allowed  at  every  view  to  check  the  onward  moving  of 
this  procession,  and  for  so  simple  a  thing  as  an  'impression,' 
I  too  shall  crave  your  leniency.  A  'specimen'  is  what  I 
am  in  search  of,  and  having  thus  far  found  little  worth 
.sending  to  my  expectant  brother,  who,  we  all  know,  is  to 
"be  the  future  naturalist  of  Connecticut,  this  day  I  shall 
•devote  myself  to  an  earnest  and  continued  search  till  I 
meet  with  success." 

"We  make  no  objections  to  your  artistic  or  naturalistic 
-departures,  I  am  sure,"  quietly  said  Margery.  "At  the 
Junction  the  other  day  I  came  across  that  new  story  we  - 
were  talking  of.  As  the  book-boy  stepped  off  the  train  I 
caught  sight  of  him,  and  as  he  had  just  the  one  I  called 
for,  the  book  was  mine  in  a  trice.  Here  in  my  belt-satchel 
it  was  lain,  awaiting  just  such  an  hour.  We  can  enjoy  it 
by  ourselves,  Julie,  under  some  quiet  shade,  while  you,  our 
artist,  impress  your  lane,  and  Mike  makes  a  capture." 

"  But  won't  you  assist  ? "  asked  Mahala. 

"No,  no." 

"  How  can  I  catch  a  vile  creature  without  some  help  ?    I 
should  —  " 


j  j  2  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

"Now  don't  say  'smile.'  'Tis  too  stale  for  anything,"" 
put  in  Julie. 

"Scream,  probably,  then,"  continued  Mahala.  "  Suppose 
it  should  not  be  a  grasshopper  at  all  ?  Suppose  it  a  green 
snake  or  a  great  lizard." 

"  Lizards  are  small." 

"  Or  a  horn-beetle." 

"  Or  a  butterfly,"  suggested  Margery, 

"Or  a  bear"  growled  Mahala,  making  great  eyes  at 
them. 

Onward  they  rode. 

The  sun  shone  on  the  darkly-green  grass.  Golden-rod 
and  purple  asters  blossomed  on  every  side.  Merry  little 
chirpers  sprang  up  from  the  roadside  and  hid  themselves 
again  a  second  afterwards.  Crickets  chirruped  in  the 
warm  hedge-rows,  and  occasionally  a  songless  bird  flittered 
through  the  clear  air  above.  After  a  time  the  tricy- 
clers  came  into  some  cool  woods.  Overhanging  trees 
shaded  either  side. 

"  Really,"  said  Mahala,  taking  off  her  hat  and  throwing 
back  the  curls  from  her  moist  forehead,  "this  shade  is 
delicious  !  The  sun  is  almost  as  fierce  as  in  June.  To-day 
seems  like  a  return  of  summer.  Hark !  Was  not  that  the 
notes  of  a  wood-thrush  ?  " 

"  No,  Mahala ;  it  is  too  late  in  the  season,"  said  her  aunt, 
as  she  measured  the  proportion  of  a  graceful  tree  with  her 
eye. 

"Well,  it  was  a  wood-thrush,  just  the  same;  I  am  sure 
I  am  not  mistaken — there!" 


WHYS  AND   OTHER    WHYS. 


It  came  again  ;  the  clear  flute-notes  echoing  through  the 
distant  trees  :  — 


"  How  sweet  in  the  dear  little  thing  to  greet  us  so  !  " 
said  Margery,  as  they  stopped  their  wheels  and  listened. 
But  he  sang  no  more. 

"I'll  write  Joe  about  that,"  said  Mahala,  delighted,  as 
she  reluctantly  started  her  pedals.  "  How  the  lusty  fellow 
did  pipe  it  up  !  He  is  not  going  to  hump  up  and  look  for- 
lorn, although  winter  is  coming.  He  is  glad  to  have  one 
more  such  perfect  day,  and  when  the  cold  pinches  his  toes, 
I'll  wager  he  will  not  complain,  but  make  the  best  of  it. 
He  is  a  kind  of  Mark  Tapley  among  birds,  and  I  like  him  !  " 

Refreshed  by  the  change  from  the  almost  oppressive 
sunshine  to  the  umbrageous  coolness  of  the  woody  air,  on 
and  on  they  went.  Each  moment  in  their  swift  transit 
new  beauties  sprang  into  life  at  their  gaze.  As  they 
neared  again  the  open  country,  devotional  stillness  seemed 
to  have  fallen  on  our  party,  as  if  the  "splendor  of  the 
grass,  the  glory  of  the  flower"  were  all  too  glorious,  too 
beautiful  for  expression.  Each  soul  was  glad  with  an  inno- 
cent delight  —  joy  so  filled  their  hearts,  and  beauty  so  glad- 
dened their  sight.  Now  they  came  out  to  a  view  of  the 
picturesque  .village.  Midday  light  shone  on  the  homes  as 
they  lay  snugged  in  below  the  hills  ;  the  farms,  the  wind- 
ing roads,  the  glistening  stream,  busy  life,  lay  all  before 
them.  Church  and  school-house  stood  in  relief  in  the 
landscape. 

w.  &  w.—  8 


U^  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

"  Please  tell  me,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  as  she  rode  beside 
Miss  St.  John,  "why  is  it  there  is  always  a  certain 
unquestionable  beauty  in  a  spire  ?  Is  it  really  beauty  of 
form  that  always  excites  pleasurable  emotions?  Is  it 
really  that  two  lines  simply  meeting  do  enclose  a  form 
of  beauty.  Almost  any  other  angularity  seems  objection- 
able." 

The  artist,  after  a  little  thought,  said,  "I  believe  it  is 
not  in  the  lines;  not  in  the  thing  itself." 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  is  not  everything  earthly,  however 
beautiful  in  itself,  enhanced  or  spiritualized  as  it  approaches 
a  heavenly  nature  ?  " 

"You  think,  then,"  said  the  artist,  "that  the  view  of  a 
spire,  tapering  as  it  does  insensibly  to  the  heaven  above 
us,  awakens  in  us  all  the  secret  associations  of  that 
heaven,  even  though  we  ourselves  may  be  unconscious  of 
the  mental  process." 

"Aha  !  "  derisively  shouted  Mahala,  checking  her  wheels 
and  falling  back  into  line  with  the  others,  "so  much  for 
impressionism.     I  can  do  better  than  that : 
'If  eyes  were  made  for  seeing, 
Then  beauty  is  its  own  excuse  for  being.'  " 

"  Original,  of  course  !  Suppose  nobody  knows  Emerson 
but  Miss  Wright,"  quickly  retorted  Mrs.  Mather. 

"Well,  we  must  put  a  stop  to  sentimentality,"  im- 
periously declared  Mahala,  as  she  rode  forward  again. 
*'  Now  tell  me,  Aunt  Dude,"  she  continued,  as  she  stopped 
in  the  road  and  waited  for  the  more  steady  riders  to 
approach,  "why,  of  all  things  in  earthly  (or  heavenly,  if 
you  will)  creation,  does  a  spider  affect  you  with  such 


WHYS  AND   OTHER    WHYS.  U^' 

shivers  of  horror,  that  you  feel  each  individual  hair  creep 
and  stand  upright  inside  your  new  poke?  Why  are  you 
thrown  in  a  malarial  condition  at  the  sight  of  this  harm- 
less creature  ?  Why  do  your  hands  grow  cold  ?  Why 
-does  sweat  appear  in  beads  upon  your  artistic  brow  and 
<:ome  dripping  down  your  pale  cheeks  ?  O,  say." 

"  You  little  goose !  if  you  don't  let  us  have  a  little  com- 
mon sense  once  in  a  while,"  exclaimed  her  aunt,  laughing, 
you  will  demoralize  the  whole  quartette  before  we  get 
home.  You  just  march  ahead  and  keep  Margery  com- 
pany." 

"Very  well,  if  you  and  Julie  cannot  answer  civil  ques- 
tions I  will  return  to  my  more  congenial  companion."  But 
she  continued  in  distinct  tones,  turning  her  face  half  way 
around  so  that  they  might  hear,  "Margery,  why  do  alliga- 
tors usually  inspire  me  with  an  awful  feeling  of  respect ; 
and  why  in  their  tracks  do  even  wise  men  fear  to  tread  ? " 

"  Because — because,"  began  Margery,  laughing  and  hes- 
itating, "of  the  inequality  of  the  line  of  their  backs,  I 
guess  ;  or  a  certain  regularity  in  the  shape  of  their  teeth, 
perhaps." 

"And  why  does  a  snake,  even  though  his  line  is  a 
curved  one,  and  frequently  even  spiral  (especially  when 
coiled  for  a  spring),  not  inspire  one  with  that  sense  of 
beauty  which  would  ordinarily  move  one  in  other  beautiful 
curves  ?  And  why,  unconscious  though  one  may  be  of 
the  mental  process,  is  one  affected  to  a  rapid  withdrawal 
from  the  scene  ? "  . 

A  general  laugh  ensued.  Whistles  were  blown  as  signal 
for  rest  and  lunch. 


CHAPTER  XL 


IT  was  one  of  October's  perfect  days.  The  sun  shone 
brilliantly  across  the  landscape,  now  resplendent  with 
the  gorgeous  hues  that  only  a  New  England  climate  pro- 
duces on  the  dying  leaves.  Masses  of  color  in  a  thousand 
hues,  from  the  deep  maroon  of  the  oaks,  through  the 
countless  shades  of  crimson  to  fiery  scarlet  and  orange  in 
the  maples,  to'  the  pale  yellow  of  the  walnuts,  dazzled  the 
senses  with  a  flood  of  delicious  tints.  Ferns  in  the  open 
field  showed  a  combination  of  browns  in  every  shade,  from 
chocolate  to  a  woody  yellow,  and  even  to  a  pale  white  in 
the  bleached  fronds,  which  stood  like  pure  spirits  of  de- 
parted friends  among  the  dying  ones.  The  deep  green  of 
firs  and  the  bright  emerald  of  the  grassy  fields  gave  a  per- 
fect background ;  and  on  the  more  distant  hills  there  lay  a 
purple  haze  softening  the  whole  view  into  a  dreamy 
beauty.'  The  air  was  so  soft  and  thin  that  distant  sounds 
came  to  the  ear,  faint,  yet  clear ;  the  lowing  of  kine  in 
far-away  places,  the  tolling  of  bells,  or  the  call  of  a  child, 
came  floating  over  the  land,  musical  and  almost  unearthly 
in  effect. 

Oi6) 


CONFESSIONS  AND  CONFUSIONS.  jj^ 

"It  is  near  here,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  whose  artistic  soul 
was  full  of  joy  in  the  beautiful  day,  "that  I  made  that  lit- 
tle study  last  year.  Now  if  you  girls  can  amuse  your- 
selves for  an  hour,  I  can  get  just  the  effect  in  this  autum- 
nal haze  that  I  want.  Yes,  here  are  the  bars  where  we 
went  in  before." 

"Very  well,  Dude,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  "we  certainly 
can  find  enough  to  enjoy  anywhere  to-day.  You  go  ahead 
with  your  traps  and  begin  work,  and  we  will  take  care  of 
your  tricycle." 

The  artist  disappeared,  all  intent  on  her  beloved  work, 
and  as  soon  as  the  trio  had  pulled  their  wheels  inside  the 
wall  and  walked  over  the  knoll,  they  found  her  already 
hard  at  it.  An  umbrella,  fixed  on  a  stick,  which  was 
thrust  firmly  into  the  ground,  her  folding  easel  in  position, 
her  green  bag  of  paints  and  brushes  lying  on  the  ground 
by  her  side,  she  sat  on  her  camp-stool,  working  rapidly. 

"  There,  now  she  is  using  her  diminishing  glass,  and  see 
what  a  wrapt  and  ecstatic  expression  she  wears,  as  she  re- 
places it  in  her  little  watch-pocket,"  said  Mahala,  as  they 
approached  the  absorbed  artist.  "Now  see  her  draw  down 
the  outside  corners  of  her  eyes'  and  squint  at  the  innocent 
river.  I  always  know  something  is  going  to  be  done  when 
she  does  that."  «, 

"Well,  dear,  we  won't  disturb  her,"  said  Margery,  with 
a  smile.  "Suppose  we  sit  down  on  this  old  tree-trunk." 

"You  can,  if  you  wish.  I  am  going  to  explore  this 
region  a  little.  Good-by." 

"  Don't  fall  into  the  water,  Mike,  and  don't  go  too  far 
away;  remember,  there  maybe  tramps  about,"  cautioned 


ng  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

her  chaperone  and  loving  friend,  as  she  sprang  away  over 
stumps  and  knarled  roots  down  towards  the  water,  which 
ran  in  a  limpid  stream  around  the  knoll. 

"  No  fear !  "  answered  the  volatile  miss,  as  she  ran  across 
a  teetering  log  on  to  the  sward  beyond. 


Margery  was  very  quiet  as  they  sat  together  on  the 
log,  breaking  up  the  bits  of  sticks  and  throwing  them  list- 
lessly into  the  water,  and  Julie,  who  it  will  be  remembered 
had  been  prompt  in  swearing  to  keep  all  of  Mahala's  rules 


CONFESSIONS  AND   CONFUSIONS.  j  jg 

before  starting,  was  taking  a  few  notes,  as  she  said  to 
Margery.  She  wrote : 

"My  DARLING  OLD  BOY: — I  am  having  a  charming 
trip,  of  course.  If  you  were  only  along !  But  then  it 
would  not  be  a  feminine  excursion,  and  I  quite  enjoy  it 
daytimes,  and  have  many  funny  little  things  to  tell  you ; 
but  when  it  comes  night  how  wretchedly  homesick  I  am ! 
Then  I  vow  I  will  never,  never,  NEVER,  NEVER  leave  you 
so  long  again." 

Here  Margery,  who  had  been  lost  in  reverie,  with  her 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  rippling  water,  turned  suddenly  towards 
her  friend,  who  smiled  guiltily  and  blushed  a  little  as  she 
thrust  her  pencil  and  the  scrap  of  paper  into  her  pocket. 

"Julie!"  said  she,  reproachfully,  "you  are  writing  to 
your  husband  ! — and  you  promised  not  to." 

"  Sh-h,  sh-h  ! "  said  the  faithless  one,  "  do  not  let  them 
hear  us !  Margie,  I  will  say  to  you  in  confidence,  that  no 
loving  wife  ever  promises  anything  without  a  mental  reser- 
vation in  favor  of  her  good  man.  When  any  one  says 
'  You  must  not  tell  a  soul ! '  I  say  '  Oh,  no  ;  certainly  not 
(except  Fred);'  and  when  another  assures  me  that  she 
would  not  for  the  world  have  any  one  but  me  know,  I  say, 
'  My  dear,  it  shall  be  a  sacred  trust  to  me  (and  Fred)  alone.' " 

"  Oh,  Julie  !  "  exclaimed  Margery,  somewhat  shocked  at 
this  confession  of  duplicity  in  her  friend,  "then  it  is  not 
safe  to  tell  a  married  woman  anything  you  do  not  wish  her 
husband  to  know  !  " 

"  Not  as  a  rule,  my  dear,"  answered  the  intrepid  lady. 
"If  a  woman  loves  her  husband  she  is  pretty  sure  to  make 
him  the  repository  of  all  her  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  if 


120 


WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 


he  is  worthy  the  confidence,  his  opinions  and  views,  from 
a  masculine  standpoint,  are  often  of  the  greatest  assist- 
ance to  her  in  advising  her  unmarried  friends.  But  keep 
it  in  mind  that  a  married  woman  is  only  one-half  of  a  com- 
posite being.  It  is  not  at  all  unsafe  to  confide  in  the  wife 
of  an  honorable  man,  Margie,  but  beware  of  others;  for 
they,  nearly  all,  will  tell  their  other  half  everything  they 
know.  Perhaps  you  consider  this  acknowledgment  dam- 
aging to  the  veracity  of  the  sex,  but  it  is  true  nevertheless. 
Still,"  said  the  artful  little  woman,  "you  who  are  the  prom- 
ised wife  of  a  noble  man,  too,  Margie,  should  not  wonder 
at  the  near  and  dear  companionship  which  supersedes  all 
girlish  intimacies,  and  shares  even  the  most  trivial  idea  as 
sympathetically  as  the  most  important  concerns  of  life." 

Margery  turned  her  face  away  toward  the  babbling 
river,  which  here  rippled  over  a  stony  shallow ;  her  eyes 
followed  a  fleck  of  foam  as  it  rose  and  fell  upon  the  minia- 
ture billows  and  whirled  about  and  sailed  smoothly  on  as  it 
reached  the  deeper  water  further  down  the  stream. 

Her  friend,  who  had  seen  that  something,  an  indefinable 
shadow  of  sadness  and  occasionally  an  unnatural  and  sur- 
prising bitterness  was  clouding  the  crystal  purity  and  re- 
fined brilliancy  of  Margery's  mind,  would  fain  have  in- 
quired into  its  cause,  but  dared  not.  She  leaned  forward 
now  to  look  into  the  proud  face,  and  pressing  the  hand 
which  lay  listlessly  in  her  lap,  she  said,  "Margery?"  and 
conveyed  at  once  an  affectionate  sympathy  and  a  tender 
inquiry  in  her  tone. 

"  Julie,"  said  the  girl,  suddenly  turning  her  face  to  the 
other,  "  I  wish  I  might  ever  again  have  the  faith  in  a  good 


CONFESSIONS  AND   CONFUSIONS. 


121 


man  that  you  have  in  your  husband.  But  I  find  that  one 
whom  I  loved  the  best  in  the  world,  thinking  him  all  that 
was  noble,  chivalrous,  loving,  and  generous,  is  not  above 
petty  flirtations,  trifling  love-makings,  which  are  an  insult 
to  me,  his  affianced  wife !  This  has  come  to  my  ears  from 
various  sources,  and  at  first  dismissed  with  incredulity  and 
contempt  for  the  friendly  warning  voice  ;  but  the  disgrace- 
ful thing  has  been  corroborated  by  his  own  lips,  and  I  re- 
fttse  to  remain  any  longer  an  object  of  the  sneering  pity 
of  my  own  associates  !  Felix  Plummer  is  at  liberty  to 
play  lover  to  all  the  grass  widows  on  earth  if  he  chooses  !  " 
The  rapidity  and  force  with  which  the  indignant  and 
wounded  Margery  poured  forth  her  grievance,  and  the 
tragic  emphasis  laid  upon  "  refuse "  and  "  at  liberty,"  as 
well  as  the  proud  gesture  with  which  she  rose  to  her  feet 
and  swept  her  clenched  hand  with  now  spreading  fingers 
out  into  a  swift  circle  as  if  to  cast  her  faithless  lover  to  the 
four  winds,  was  a  stunning  surprise  to  Mrs.  Mather,  who, 
while  loving  her  elegant  and  self-contained  companion, 
had  sometimes  said  to  Fred  that  she  thought  she  lacked 
force  and  depth  of  feeling.  But  now,  as  Margery  sank 
trembling  and  weeping  and  resting  her  graceful  head  upon 
the  little  wife's  lap,  she  felt  an  admiration  for  the  sobbing 
girl  she  had  never  before  experienced.  She  rose  to  the 
occasion,  and  a  flood  of  gladness  came  over  her  affection- 
ate heart  that  the  trouble  she  vaguely  suspected  was  out 
at  last,  and  that  she,  as  she  felt  sure,  could  bring  about  a 
reconciliation  between  the  estranged  lovers.  She  smoothed 
the  soft  hair  of  the  bowed  head  and  said,  "  Tell  me  all  about 
it,  my  poor  child.  Possibly  you  do  Felix  wrong." 


j22  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

The  proud  lips  unclosed  upon  the  humiliating  theme,  and 
gave  the  facts  as  we  have  already  become  acquainted  with 
them,  only  adding  that  Mrs.  Bangtry  had  been  indecent 
enough  to  boast  that  she  could  take  Felix  Plummer  away 
from  his  cold  and  stately  fiancee  if  she  desired,  "  and  it 
seems  she  could,"  cried  the  mortified  young  lady,  in  end- 
ing. 

"Fie,  fie  !  Margery  !  Be  a  woman  !  Think,"  said  her 
friend ;  "  do  you  know  of  cause  enough  on  the  part  of 
your  lover,  so  that  you  are  warranted  in  not  giving  him  one 
chance  to  defend  himself?  Things  are  wretchedly  per- 
verted and  magnified  in  coming  through  the  mouths  of 
one  or  two  mischief-makers.  No  girl  is  right  to  throw 
away  her  happiness  on  mere  hearsay,  and  without  a  word 
of  explanation !  Why,  Margie,  I  am  surprised  that  your 
pride  should  have  so  run  away  with  your  common  sense. 
Oh !  if  people  would  only  talk  more  !  Why  not  speak  of 
any  wrong  as  soon  as  it  is  felt  ?  One  need  not  descend  to 
fretful  fault-finding,  but  trifles,  which  would  melt  into  thin 
air  at  one  reasonable  word,  grow  into  mountains  of  sorrow 
in  an  atmosphere  of  silence  and  distrust.  Promise  me, 
Margery,  that  you  will  write  to  him  at  once  (Mike's  inflex- 
ible rule,  notwithstanding).  I  am  sure  you  have  been  un- 
just to  him,  and,  also,  that  when  you  are  his  precious  wife,  for 
you  will  be,  dear — "  Margery  was  shaking  her  head.  "  O 
yes,  you  will  be,  sure  as  you  both  live — promise  me  that 
you  will  speak  of  anything  that  hurts  you,  as  there  will  be 
many  times,  of  course,  men  not  understanding  such  a 
proud,  sensitive,  zvicked,  cruel  nature  as  yours  —  " 

Julie  had  the  now  faintly  smiling  face  by  the  chin,  and 


CONFESSIONS  AND  CONFUSIONS.  I2j 

while  talking  to  it  in  this  incoherent  and  thoroughly 
womanly  manner,  was  giving  the  fair  cheek  a  little  pinch 
as  she  added  the  last  adjectives,  when  there  came  a  pierc- 
ing shriek  from  the  woods  across  the  river. 

"Hark!" 

"  Oh  !  oh !  oh  !  Help,  gins  i  Ah-o-o-o  !  Hurry  !  e-e ! 
Help,  quick." 

"Mike's  drowning!"  gasped  Margery. 

"Or  being  murdered,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  in  a  low  voice 
with  clenched  teeth,  and  she  started  on  a  run  down  the 
woody  slope  to  the  bank  of  the  stream. 

"Margery!"  she  panted  as  they  ran,  "have  your  pistol 
ready  !  You  took  it  this  morning ;  cock  it  in  your  pocket ! 
I  can  use  this  club !  Run  !  Faster !  Yes,  yes,  Mike,  we 
are  coming ! "  she  screamed. 

Margery  fell  to  the  ground.  "  Oh  !  Julie  !  I  have  broken 
my  ankle  !  I  am  going  to  faint ! " 

"No,  you  are  not,"  said  the  plucky  little  woman, 
fiercely,  "you  shall  not !  Come  on  !  Mike  is  being  killed  !" 
and  she  dragged  Margery  to  her  feet  and  sped  away  across 
the  log  bridge  into  the  pasture  beyond,  with  the  strength 
that  fear  lends.  Margery  followed  as  fast  as  her  sprained 
ankle  would  permit. 

That  Mahala  was  still  alive  was  evident  by  the  screams, 
which  apparently  issued  from  a  patch  of  white  birches 
across  the  open  field.  As  the  two  friends  came  in  haste  to 
the  spot  whence  the  cries  seemed  to  come,  their  terror  in- 
creased, for,  in  the  woods  or  along  the  river  they  could  see 
nothing  of  the  girl,  when,  "  Up  here  !  Up  here !  Put 
something  under  me !  I  can't  hold  on  a  minute  longer  I 


I24 


WHEELS  AI:D  WHIMS. 


Can't  you  get  hold  of 
the  tip    and  pull    this 
tree  down  ?     Or   climb   another   tree 
and  pull  this  one  up  so  I  can  get  my 
feet   on    something.     Do   something 
quick.    I've  been  hanging  here  an  eternity  now  !  " 


CONFESSIONS  AND  CONFUSIONS.  I2e 

Mrs.  Mather  saw  at  a  glance  that  there  was  no  way  to 
straighten  up  the  tree  or  pull  it  farther  down,  as  they 
could  not  touch  the  ends  of  her  toes  as  she  clung  to  the 
willowy  birch,  kicking  and  writhing  in  the  vain  attempt  to 
swing  back  to  a  hold  upon  its  slender  trunk.  Her  hat 
was  on  the  ground,  the  dark  curls  hung  in  hopeless  con- 
fusion over  her  frightened  eyes,  and  her  distressed  face 
was  red  and  distorted  in  agony. 

"  Mike,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  decisively,  "  the  only  thing 
for  you  to  do  is  to  drop.  We  will  catch  you  and  break 
your  fall  as  much  as  possible." 

"But  I  shall  kill  you!" 

"No,  you  will  not.     Now  drop." 

They  held  up  their  arms  and  Mahala  let  go  of  the  birch, 
which  quickly  rose  to  a  perpendicular,  while  the  three 
young  women  came  in  a  heap  to  the  ground  with  tremen- 
dous force. 

"  I  know  I  have  killed  you  both ! "  exclaimed  Mahala, 
jumping  up.  "Julie,  have  I  hurt  you?  Tell  me,  Mar- 
gie, dear,  are  n't  you  terribly  bruised  ?  " 

"  N-no,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  who  had  now  regained  her 
feet,  "  I  guess  I  am  all  right,  except  my  elbow ;  I  think 
that  is  barked,"  she  said,  as  she  felt  of  it,  "  but  the  sleeve 
is  so  tight  I  shall  not  know  until  bed-time." 

Margery  now  leaned  forward  and  spat  out  a  mouthful  of 
blood.  Mahala  began  to  weep  hysterically  at  sight  of  it. 

"Oh!  dear  Margie!"  she  cried,  "you  have  some  inter- 
nal injury,  and  I — I  am  to  blame." 

"  Oh,  no,  Mike  !  I  only  bit  my  tongue  as  my  chin  came 
down  on  something  hard.  It-  will  stop  bleeding  soon,  I 
think." 


I2g  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

Mahala  began  to  rub  her  head  thoughtfully,  and  a  grat- 
ified expression  came  over  her  face  as  she  said,  "I  do 
believe  it  was  my  head.  There's  a  great  lump  on  my 
bump  of  cautiousness.  Oh !  but  it  is  sore.  I  am  so  glad  ! 
I  was  so  ashamed  when  I  thought  I  was  not  hurt  at  all." 

"Well,  Mike,"  said  Margery,  who  could  not  forego  this 
mild  retort,  "  if  this  occurrence  will  in  any  way  help  to  fill 
out  that  organ,  which  is  naturally  a  cavity,  it  will  be  a  re- 
lief to  your  friends,  and  they  will  bear  their  wounds  with 
cheerfulness." 

Mahala  looked  at  Margery  reflectively  for  a  moment, 
and  then  stooping  picked  up  her  hat  and  put  it  on  her  sub- 
dued head.  Julie  tightened  up  her  disheveled  hair,  and 
with  Margery  limping  a  little  and  occasionally  stopping  to 
discharge  more  blood  from  her  mouth,  they  took  their  dis- 
heartened way  back  across  the  field.  Nothing  was  said 
for  some  time  as  they  walked  slowly  toward  the  river.  At 
last  Mrs.  Mather  remarked,  "  It  may  be  proper  now  to  in- 
quire, Mahala,  how  under  heavens  you  came  to  be  in  the 
awkward,  not  to  say  dangerous  predicament  in  which  we 
found  you  ?" 

"Why,  I  was  only  swinging  on  the  birches,  as  I  have 
done  thousands  of  times  before  with  the  boys,"  she 
answered,  in  an  injured  tone.  "  It 's  glorious  fun  !  "  added 
the  giddy  thing,, brightening  a  little. 

"  So  it  seemed,"  interpolated  Margery,  coolly. 

"Well,  it  is,  when  you  do  it  right !  You  climb  the  tree 
by  the  little  branches  and  when  you  get  to  the  top  where 
it  is  too  limber  to  go  higher,  you  just  jump  right  out  into 
the  air,  and  over  you  go,  flying  to  the  ground  like  a  bird." 


CONFESSIONS  AND  CONFUSIONS.  I2y 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  laughing  a  little  in  recollec- 
tion of  the  recent  scene,  "you  looked  like  a  bird,  but  it 
was  a  stork  with  red  legs'!  " 

Not  apparently  noticing  this  thrust,  which  keenly 
wounded  her  pride,  for  reasons  best  known  to  herself, 
Mahala  continued,  "But  you  must  not  get  an  old  tree  that 
will  break  with  you,  nor  one  that  is  too  large  and  stiff. 
That  was  what  was  the  matter  with  the  last  one.  I  had 
swung  twenty  times,  I  think,  and  it  was  just  lovely !  I 
was  just  going  to  have  one  more  and  then  return  to  you," 
she  added,  ruefully. 

"Well,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  good-naturedly, 
"  like  many  another  harum-scarum,  you  dared  your  fate  just 
once  too  many  times.  However,  it  is  not  as  bad  as  it  might 
have  been,  so  we  will  think  no  more  about  it,  if  Margie's 
ankle  does  not  prove  troublesome."  Suddenly,  "Why, 
where  is  Dude  all  this  time  ?  Can  it  be  possible  that  she 
has  heard  nothing  of  all  this  ? " 

"Of  course,"  said  her  saucy  niece,  "give  Aunt  Dude 
some  trees,  a  bit  of  water,  and  a  rock  or  two,  and  she 
would  not  hear  the  sky  fall !  There  she  sits,"  said  Mahala, 
as  they  drew  near  the  spot,  "oblivious  of  the  rest  of  the 
earth."  Here  she  tittered.  "She  would  not  be  holding 
her  head  on  one  side  in  such  a  satisfied  manner,  if  she 
knew  that  cow  was  looking  over  her  shoulder !  Cattle  are 
the  only  things  in  the  world  that  she  is  afraid  of." 

"  Well,  girls,"  said  the  unconscious  lady,  rising  as  they 
neared,  "  have  you  got  tired  of  waiting  for  me  ?  I  have 
succeeded  in  catching  a  most  charming  glimpse  of — ugh ! 
a  horrid  cow."  She  had  turned  slightly  to  get  a  different 


I28  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

light  on  her  canvas,  and  caught  sight  of  the  great  face  of 
the  animal  which  was  sniffing  at  her  shoulder.  She  threw 
herself  forward  away  from  the  dreadful  monster,  and  upset 
her  easel,  throwing  the  picture  to  the  earth.  Green  bag 
and  basket,  umbrella  and  stick,  camp-stool  and  canvas, 
were  scattered  broadcast  at  the  mercy  of  the  gentle  cow, 
who  evidently  was  wondering  in  a  dreamy,  bovine  way, 
what  the  melee  was  all  about.  Mahala  took  her  by  the 
horn,  and  patting  her  brown  neck,  turned  her  away  and  led* 
her  to  a  distance.  "Did  it  fall  on  the  buttered  side?"  she 
said,  returning  again. 

"  No,  for  a  wonder,"  answered  the  disconcerted  lady,, 
who  was  picking  up  her  picture,  "  but  thanks  to  you, 
Mahala,  that  the  creature  did  not  step  upon  it."  She  was. 
gathering  up  her  artistic  paraphernalia  and  engaged  in 
packing  it  into  a  surprisingly  small  space  and  making  a 
compact  parcel.  "  But  where  have  you  been  so  long  ? " 
she  queried,  and  then  they  told  her. 

They  continued  their  ride.  As  soon  as  Mahala  could 
get  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Mather  aside,  she  said, 
"Julie." 

"What?" 

"  Did  I  make  a  shocking  appearance,  up  there,  hanging 
to  the  tree  ? " 

"  Why,  without  doubt,  there  was  considerable  braided 
underskirt  mixed  up  with  some  very  lively  red  stockings," 
answered  Mrs.  Mather,  smiling. 

"Of  course,"  rejoined  Mahala,  shortly,  "you  could  see 
that,  being  right  under  me;  but  could  any  one,  I  mean 
could  you,  see  more  than  my  feet,  across  the  field  ? " 


CONFESSIONS  AND  CONFUSIONS.  I2Q 

"  Why,  I  did  not  give  it  a  thought,  I  was  so  frightened. 
I  really  do  not  remember.  But  why  should  you  care  ?  No 
one  was  near  to  see  you." 

"That's  just  it,"  said  poor  Mahala,  choking  a  little  and 
swallowing  hard,  "  I  am  sure  there  was  some  one  in  the 
woods,  and  I  am  afraid  it  was — a  man,"  winking  back  tears 
of  vexation,  "for  just  as  we  fell  I  heard  a  crash  through 
the  brush,  and  when  I  got  to  my  feet,  his  back  was  just 
going  down  behind  the  fence,  and  it  was  a  great  broad 
back,  and  I  know  he  saw  me,  and  I  ha-ate  him  ! " 

Her  voice  broke  a  little,  and  she  furtively  wiped  a  tear 
from  her  eye.  "  I  despise  creatures  who  are  always  poking 
around  when  they  are  not  wanted  ! " 

Mrs.  Mather,  who  could  not  feel  that  it  was  any  serious 
catastrophe  if  some  farmer  had  perchance  been  cutting 
rails  in  the  adjoining  woods  and  so  become  a  witness  to 
their  adventure,  dismissed  the  subject  from  their  conversa- 
tion and  said  to  them  all,  that  they  had  better  get  back  to 
the  hotel  as  soon  as  convenient  and  take  a  rest. 

Margery's  wrenched  ankle,  which  had  been  the  only 
severe  hurt  in  this  chapter  of  accidents,  was  found  to  be 
only  slightly  injured,  much  to  the   relief   of   the   whole 
party,  who  had  feared  a  dentetion  on  her  account, 
w.  &  vr.— 9 


CHAPTER   XII. 


A  BRIGHT  morning  after  a  rain,  and  our  party  of  happy 
*V.  wheelers  bade  good  Farmer  Bodge  and  his  wife  good- 
by  and  started  away  down  the  winding  road,  which  had 
been  plashed  and  packed  firm  and  smooth  by  the  rain- 
drops which  had  fallen  during  the  night. 

Mrs.  Bodge  had  acknowledged  to  them,  as  they  were 
chatting  and  oiling  up  their  machines,  which  were  safe  on 
the  barn  floor,  that  she  had  not  been  clear  in  her  mind 
about  them  when  they  arrived.  "I  see,"  said  she,  as  she 
took  a  seat  upon  a  cart -tongue,  "that  Jerry  was  jest  be- 
witched, when  he  come  a  runnin'  acrost  the  barn-lot  with  his 
cheeks  as  red  as  Balding  apples  and  his  eyes  a  shinin',  and 
he  bu'st  into  the  wood-shed,  where  I  was  (I  had  stepped 
out  for  a  handful  of  kindlin's ;  my  fire  had  got  low  and  bis- 
cuits must  be  done  quick  or  they  ain't  fit  to  eat),  and  says 
he,  'Mother,  there's  four  ladies  a-comin'  up  the  road  and 
they  're  all  a-ridin'  on  machines  which  they  call  tricycles. 
You  know  Uncle  Ben  told  us  about  how  he  saw  them  in 
England.  They  are  all  in  gray  dresses,'  says  he,  'with 
snipperdings  on  the  front  of  the  waist  and  little  coat-tails 

(130) 


THE  BODGES.  j^j 

behind,  and  they  can  just  spin  over  the  ground  faster'n 
old  Dick  can  trot.'  Says  I,  'Jeremiah  Bodge,  stop  your 
puffin'  an'  blowin'.  Set  down  in  the  chair  and  tell  me  what 
you  mean ! " 

"  '  Wai,  mother,'  says  he,  '  father  and  I  were  down  in 
the  further  pastur',  mowin'  brush,  so  as  to  plow  it  fo-mor- 


rer,  when  father  looked  up,  and  says  he,  '  Jerusalem  crick- 
ets!' I  looked  up  and  I  tell  yer  ther'  wan't  no  more 
mowin'.  Whiz  !  They  come  along  just  as  smooth  and 
pretty  with  them  spider-web  wheels,  and  their  hats  all 
covered  with  feathers,  and  they  were  all  singing  something 


^2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

like  peek-a-boo,  peek-a-boo !  Wai,  father  leant  on  his 
scythe,  and  couldn't  say  a  word,  but  I  knew  in  a  minute 
they  was  city  girls  from  the  way  their  waists  set,  and  when 
they  came  nearer,  such  pretty  shoes  ! '  Says  I,  'Jeremiah, 
they  're  bad  women.  They  must  be  some  of  those  circus 
creeturs  like  what  enticed  Sam  Burnet  away  to  New  York. 
Come  into  the  house/  says  I,  'and  I'll  lock  the  door. 
Come  right  in  and  we  '11  peek  through  the  front-room 
blinds,  and  see  'em  pass  ! '  '  No,  no,'  says  he,  '  they  're 
comin'  here  ! '  '  Comin'  here,'  says  I ;  '  wal,  I  guess  not  1 
If  your  father  can  be  made  a  fool  of,  I  can't,  and  I  can  tell 
him  no  such  truck  shall  darken  my  doors  !  I'd  sooner — ' 
'  But  hold  on,  mother,'  hollered  Jerry,  as  I  started  to  bolt 
the  doors,  '  they  are  nice  ladies  !  Yes,  they  are,  real  ladies. 
One  of  'em  is  a  daughter  of  Mr.  Prescott,  who  was  here 
huntin'  partridge  last  year  !  Wait  till  I  tell  you,  before 
you  fly  off  the  handle  ! '  I  am  a  little  touchy  about  bein' 
at  all  familiar  with  strange  women.  If  everything  ain't 
jest  right,  I  suspicion  it  right  away ;  but  the  minute  he 
mentioned  your  father's  name,  I  cooled  right  down,  and 
settin'  down  to  the  churn,  let  the  boy  run  on.  I 
was  dreadful  late  about  my  churnin'  yesterday  morn- 
in'.  I  don't  know  whether  it  got  chilled  or  what 
was  to  pay,  but  that  cream  would  not  come.  I  had 
about  made  up  my  mind  to  give  it  up  when  he  come  in  ; 
but  I  guess  I  put  extra  venom  into  the  handle  after  he 
scart  me  so,  for  it  come  all  of  a  sudden.  I  hadn't  got  it 
out  of  the  churn  when  you  rode  up.  But  he  told  me  how 
you  stopped  at  the  bars  and  asked  him  how  far  it  was  to 
Mr.  Bodge's  house,  and  father,  says  he,  '  I  am  Mr.  Bodge/ 


THE  BODGES.  j^ 

and  how  sweet  and  genteel  one  jumped  off  her  machine 
and  come  into  the  lot  and  gave  him  a  letter  introducing 
you,  and  then  Jerry  run  acrost  lots  to  tell  me.  Jerry  said 
you  was  all  perfect  ladies,  but  the  one  with  her  hair  cut 
short  in  front  and  parted  on  the  side  with  little  curls  all 


around  her  face  and  behind  the  ears,  with  her  dimples  and 
white  teeth,  which  she  showed  all  the  time  because  she 
was  always  laughing,  was  enough  to  make  a  man  strike  his 
grandmother  if  she  asked  him  to ! " 

Mahala  blushed.     "O,  dear,  Mrs.  Bodge,  I  would  not 
ask  any  one  to  do  such  a  wicked  thing." 


!34  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Of  course  you  would  n't !"  said  the  matron,  rolling  her 
bare  arms  up  in  her  apron  preparatory  to  a  run  for  the 
house,  "  that's  only  his  exaggerative  way  of  speakin'.  J 
hate  to  have  him  use  such  language,  but  his  father  is 
awful  on  by -words  too  ! " 

"  I'm  darned  sorry  to  have  you  go,"  said  Farmer  Bodge, 
as  the  tricycle  travelers  made  their  last  preparations  for 
starting  away  from  the  comfortable  place  that  had  shel- 
tered them  for  a  day. 

"  By  John  Holland  !"  he  continued  earnestly,  in  his  slow 
and  heavy  way,  "when  I  see  you* four  comin'  down  the 
road  yesterday,  I  was  beat.  I'd  heard  of  them  ma- 
chines, but  never  expected  to  see  ladies  on  'em.  But  it 
must  be  good  for  you,  judging  by  the  looks  of  these  rosy 
cheeks  and  shinin'  eyes." 

Farmer  Bodge  felt  a  little  dashed  at  his  own  gallantry 
as  displayed  in  this  last  remark,  and  looked  around  quickly 
to  see  that  "  mother  "  was  not  near  enough  to  hear  him. 

"Thunder  and  orcrow ! "  he  exclaimed,  "if  there  ain't 
Jerry  ridin'  on  one  of  the  things  now,  along  with  Miss 
Curlyhead  !  Jerry  '11  be  spiled  for  the  neighbor  girls  now, 
sure.  Haw !  haw !  Sarah  Pease  won't  be  nowhere ! " 

Jerry,  who  until  %these  fatal  days  had  not  realized  that 
his  hands  were  coarse  and  his  feet  inelegantly  shod,  had 
begun  to  despise  his  own  pleasant,  though  confessedly 
verdant  personality.  He  had  taken  his  father's  razor  the 
evening  before,  and  by  the  light  of  two  kerosene  lamps 
had  succeeded  in  scraping  off  the  soft  growth  from  his 
cheeks  and  chin.  He  carefully  omitted  to  perform  this 
operation  on  his  upper  lip,  and,  by  dint  of  the  least  bit  of 


THE  BODGES  j^e 

burnt  cork  on  his  finger-tip,  had  darkened  the  incipient 
mustache  until  it  was  visible  to  the  naked  eye.  The  lad 
was  almost  handsome,  as,  with  burning  cheeks  and  a  new 
and  strange  expression  in  his  eyes,  he  followed  his  merry 
companion  around  the  square.  Then,  as  they  stood 
together  lowering  the  saddle  again  for  Mrs.  Mather's  use, 
as  the  travelers  were  soon  to  depart,  his  hands  trembled. 
He  bit  his  lip,  and  looked  down  to  where  he  was  smooth- 
ing his  forefinger  to  and  fro  along  the  wire  spokes. 

"You  have  been  very  kind  to  us,  Jerry,"  said  the  good- 
hearted  little  flirt,  "  and  when  you  come  to  Hartford  I 
hope  you  will  call  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  my 
brothers.  Jo  has  a  wonderful  entomological  collection, 
not  to  mention  quantities  of  minerals  and  an  aquarium." 

"I  would  like  to  call  and  see — your  brothers,"  wistfully 
murmured  the  miserably -happy  youth,  "but  you  would 
not  want  a  countryman  like  me  around,"  he  added  bitterly. 
"Probably  you  have  dozens  of  fine  fellows ain  new  style 
hats  and  tailor's  clothes,  with  white  hands  and  all  that. 
No ! "  he  shook  his  head,  "  unless  I  could  be  as  elegant  and 
easy  and — and — no ! "  he  said  again,  vehemently,  "  I  shall 
never  call  upon  you." 

Mahala  was  confused,  seeing  that  in  her  desire  to  be 
kind  to  the  young  man  she  had  innocently  wounded  his 
pride.  She  tried  to  think  of  some  pleasant  disclaimer  to 
his  consciousness  of  his  disadvantage  in  appearance  beside 
city-bred  boys,  but  remained  silent,  distressed  by  his  man- 
ifest feeling,  which  she  could  not  truthfully  controvert. 

When  they  all  shook  hands  in  saying  farewell  to  their 
kind  entertainers  he  made  no  reply  to  her  bright  "Good-by, 


j^6  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

Jerry,"  but  squeezing  her  little  hand  in  his  sinewy  palm, 
he  turned  and  walked  hastily  away  to  the  barn,  and  threw 
himself  face  down  upon  the  haymow,  where  we  will  leave 
him  with  a  pang  in  his  boyish  heart.  With  this  new  and 
painfully  sweet  experience,  which  no  one  can  know  as  a 
country  lad  who  is  fascinated,  enthralled,  by  the  uncon- 
scious graces,  the  hundred  little  aids  and  appurtenances  of 
toilet,  the  captivating  self-possession,  and  the  innocence 
of  her  own  charming  ways,  which  are  among  the  attributes 
of  a  bright  and  lovable  city  girl. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


A  BY-PATH,  woods  in  rear,  school-house  near. 
"  If  there  is  n't  Aunt  Dude  before  that  easel  again ! 
I  thought  we  stipulated  for  one  day's  respite,"  said  Mahala, 
always  first  to  speak.      "  If  she  is  not  the  most  persistent 
worker!     Aunty,  you  make  me  feel  tired!" 

"I  wish,"  retorted  Miss  St.  John,  "I  could  make  you 
feel  tired  of  doing  nothing,  then  you  would  go  to  work 
and  perhaps  make  something  of  your  gift ;  I  can't  call  it 
talent,  for  that  implies  cultivation." 

"But  what  should  I  have  done,  I  wonder,  without  Julie 
and  Margie  all  the  quiet  days  ?  A  pretty  scrape  I  would 
have  gotten  into,  if,  according  to  your  first  proposition,  I 
had  accompanied  you  alone  on  this  expedition !  You  and 
you  only,"  she  repeated,  leaning  over  her  aunt's  chair  and 
touching  her  lips  to  her  cheek.  "A  pretty  scrape!  I'd 
been  worn  to  a  shadow  from  very  pining  and  loneliness. 
Was  n't  it  a  happy  thought  to  get  such  a  jolly,  charming, 
fascinating  trio  to  make  your  trip  complete  ?  You  ought 
to  be  very  grateful  to  us  for  coming,  to  make  a  variety  for 
you." 


j^g  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"It  was,  indeed,"  answered  the  artist,  smiling,  "but 
now,  most  jolly,  fascinating,  and  charming  trio,  if  just  as 
agreeable  to  you,  I  will  permit  you  to  dispose  of  your- 
selves as  you  like.  You  may  leave  me  to  my  work  this 
morning ;  I  have  a  great  deal  more  before  me  than  I  can 
master.  If  you  will  kindly  amuse  yourselves  under  those 
lovely  pines,  your  absence  I  shall  not  feel  at  all.  Try  that 
path  leading  down  the  ravine.  If  you  follow  it  to  the  lit- 
tle bridge,  you  can  cross  the  brook.  Mount  the  opposite 
hillside ;  there  you  will  find  a  charming  view  to  the  south- 
ward. If  you  find  a  scene  to  please  you,  Margie,  mark 
the  point  of  view.  I  will  paint  it  for  your  wedding  pres- 
ent," she  added,  casting  a  swift,  searching  glance  at  the 
young  girl. 

Margery  made  no  answer — gave  no  sign. 

Mahala  had  started  off,  at  her  aunt's  first  suggestion, 
Margery  and  Mrs.  Mather  following  more  slowly. 

"Well,  what  is  it,  Margie  ?"  said  the  latter,  as,  passing 
her  arm  through  that  of  her  friend,  she  gazed  inquiringly 
up  into  her  face. 

Margery  tried  to  smile,  made  a  sorry  failure,  blushed 
hotly,  and  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

"Not  be  troubled  about  it?"  she  said,  repeating  her 
friend's  kind  words.  "  How  can  I  help  it,  Julie  ?  " 

"  You  probably  expected  to  receive  an  answer  to  your 
letter  about  this  time,"  said  Julie,  in  a  low  voice,  "perhaps 
it  may  not  yet  have  reached  him,"  she  suggested. 

"  Oh,  it  must  have  done  so.  There  has  been  plenty  of 
time  for  a  reply  too,"  returned  Margery,  in  a  choking 
voice. 


THE  ARTIST'S  DAY. 


"Yes,  but  he  might 
be  out  of  town.  Not 
an  improbable  surmise, 
is  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  he  is  at  home. 
Perhaps  too  angry  to 
read  it  even.  He  may 
be  more  pleasantly  en- 
gaged," she  added  with 
a  curl  of  her  lip,  "  than 
in  reading  letters  from 
me." 

"  Pshaw !  "Margie,  for 
shame  !  I  tell  you  it 
is  more  likely  he  is 
disgusted  with  himself, 
for  ever  having  looked 


J.Q  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

at  Mrs.  Bangtry.  The  apparent  flirtation  was  evidently 
all  on  her  side ;  a  man's  vanity  is  easily  reached,  and 
upon  reflection  he  may  only  blame  himself  for  ever  having 
given  cause  for  remarks,  by  his  polite  attention  to  her  in- 
vitations. Almost  every  man  (as  well  as  most  women), 
sooner  or  later,  has  some  experience  in  that  line,  only  to 
call  himself  a  fool  afterwards." 

"  Oh,  Julie,  how  can  you  say  that  ?  I  never  should 
have — " 

"  No,  perhaps  not.  You  probably  never  will,  and  I  make 
no  confessions  myself  in  that  line.  But  I  do  not  hold  it  a 
bad  thing  to  test  the  caliber  of  your  lover  now,  before  he 
is  tied." 

"  Tied  ! "  repeated  Margery,  "  I  wonder  what  an  engage- 
ment means,  if  it  is  not  a  tie,  as  sacred,  too,  as  marriage ! 
I  felt  I  was  bound  to  him,  before  all  the  world." 

They  had  walked  slowly,  talking  as  they  went,  and  now 
they  had  stopped  under  an  old  tree.  Margery  leaned  up 
against  its  gnarled  trunk,  and  stood  picking  bits  of  bark 
from  its  rough  side,  letting  them  fall  unheeded  to  the 
earth.  "  My  whole  world  was  in  him,"  she  said,  with 
tears 

Mrs.  Mather  rested  on  a  broken  limb,  which  had  been 
torn  nearly  off,  and  hung  with  its  smaller  branches  upon 
the  ground.  She  feigned  to  be  interested  in  the  tortuous 
course  of  a  tiny  ant  which  was  laboring  up  the  limb, 
dragging  an  insect  of  twice  its  size  over  the  many  obsta- 
cles in  its  path.  She  absently  picked  off  a  few  scales  of 
dead  bark  to  make  a  smoother  way  for  the  industrious  lit- 
tle fellow.  Then  she  said  quietly,  "  Some  men  there  are, 
real  men,  with  true  hearts  and  unswerving  affections — " 


THE  ARTIST'S  DAY.  !4j 

"  I  thought  him  such,"  said  Margery,  with  rising  empha- 
sis. 

"Who  do  so  love,"  continued  Mrs.  Mather,  without 
noticing  the  interruption,  "that  it  is  impossible  that  they 
should  give  a  thought  beyond  the  one  woman  who  absorbs 
their  love,  and  there  are  women  who  are  worthy  such 
devotion,  but,"  she  added,  hesitatingly,  "the  world  is  not 
crowded  with  such  people.  Felix,  however,  has  had  one 
lesson.  A  rather  severe  one,  I  think,  considering  his 
slight  and  very  excusable  fault.  His  proud  maid  is  not  to 
be  trifled  with  in  this  way,  and  I  presume  it  will  not  hurt 
him  to  find  it  out  now ;  and  perhaps,"  continued  she, 
lowly,  and  smiling  a  little,  "it  is  a  lesson  to  you,  too,  to 
take  to  heart  in  another  way,  Margie." 

"  I  did  not  need  it,"  declared  Margery  ;  "  I  despise  petty 
jealousy." 

"Ah!  so  you  think.  But  were  you  not  very  hasty?  A 
few  words  from  him  would  have  doubtless  assured  you 
that  there  was  no  cause  for  your  anger  and  sudden  depart- 
ure. I  would  have  advised  you  by  all  means  to  have  given 
him  a  chance  to  explain  all  those  things.  But  don't  worry 
now,  dear,  we  have  talked  it  all  over ;  repetition  can  do  no 
good ;  you  have  written  to  him,  and  the  answer  must 
surely  come  ere  long." 

"Do  you  believe  so,  really?"  said  Margery,  leaving  her 
place  by  the  tree  and  brushing  the  bits  of  bark  from  her 
gray  dress.  She  looked  more  cheerful  and  wiped  a  tear 
from  her  cheek  as  she  spoke :  "  Julie,  you  are  such  a  com- 
fort to  me.  I  am  so  anxious  to  believe  that  you  are  right 
that  I  almost  feel  it  will  be  so." 


j^2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"I  am  confident  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Mather. 

A  cry  from  Mahala  broke  in  upon  this  quiet  interview. 

The  bridge  over  which  she  had  tripped  consisted  of  two 
logs  with  short  planks  laid  across  them.  In  her  usual 
haste,  Mahala  had  attempted  to  spring  over  the  gap  to  the 
opposite  landing.  She  had  not  miscalculated  the  distance, 
nor  her  ability  to  leap  it,  but  the  ground  was  covered  with 
pine  needles  dropped  from  the  overhanging  trees.  It  was 
thus  too  slippery  to  gain  a  secure  footing, -as  the  bank 
sloped  steeply  to  the  water.  She  fell  and  lay-  helpless 
upon  her  side,  unable  to  regain  her  feet,  and  fearing  to  slip 
further  down  the  bank  if  she  made  the  attempt.  "  Oh,  do 
come  and  help  me,"  she  cried.  "  Cross  down  on  the  stones 
below  there.  You  can't  come  this  way.  You'll  jump  on 
me.  Don't,  don't,"  she  persisted,  while  the  two  friends 
hastened  down  the  stream  to  where  the  water  was  low. 
"I'm  slipping — I  can't  get  up — I've  nothing  to  hold  on  to," 
she  cried,  trying  to  dig  her  fingers  into  the  earth.  "  Oh, 
hurry,  do,  or  I  shall  wet  my  feet.  Call  Aunt  Dude.  If 
she  was  n't  at  that  everlasting  painting  I'd  get  some 
help!" 

"Well,  hold  on  to  silence,  a  minute,"  called  Mrs.  Mather, 
"  you  are  three  feet  from  water,  and  in  no  danger  of  get- 
ting wet,  if  you  will  only  be  quiet  until  we  can  get  at 
you." 

"  Here  we  are,  now,"  said  Margery,  giving  her  hand  to 
the  prostrate  girl,  who  speedily  crawled  to  her  feet. 
"  What  *s  all  this  great  cry  about  ? "  she  continued,  looking 
around.  "  Mike,  you  will  have  to  have  a  special  body- 
guard if  you  do  not  take  better  care  of  yourself.  Julie  and 


THE  ARTISTS  DAY.  l^ 

I  cannot  have  a  moment's  quiet  talk,  but,  alas !  a 
shriek  from  you.  And  you  have  never  once  used  your 
whistle,  according  to  programme ;  it  is  always  a  feminine 
squeal." 

Margery  had  commenced  her  remarks  with  a  little  im- 
patience, but  was  forced  to  smile  at  the  impudent  indiffer- 
ence with  which  her  rebuke  was  received  by  the  erratic 
individual  whom  she  had  so  lately  rescued. 

"Now,  please,  Margie,  don't  be  hard.  I'm  bruised 
enough  already,"  rubbing  her  side.  "  Don't  hurt  my  fceliris 
too  ;  though  probably  they  are  not  so  tender  as  my  flesh." 

"  It  is  slippery  here,  Mike.  Take  care,  Julie — oh  !  " 
and  as  Mahala  was  now  upon  her  feet,  down  went  Miss 
Prescott,  in  the  most  undignified  manner  imaginable. 
Mahala  was  convulsed. 

"  Pshaw  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mather,  as  she  attempted  to 
raise  Margery  to  her  feet.  "  It  is  very  strange — "  and 
down  they  both  went  together  in  great  discomfiture. 
Mahala  clapped  her  hands  in  irrepressible  glee,  and  they 
all  joined  in  the  laugh. 

"  What  is  all  this  cry  about  ?  And  it  is  certainly  very 
strange  that  you  people  cannot  stand  upon  your  feet ! 
Oh,  that  the  artist  were  on  the  spot  now  ! "  cried  Mahala. 
"  But  they  never  are  around  when  needed.  They  always 
come  in  when  it  is  all  over,  and  make  up  the  picture  from 
imagination.  That  is  why  their  work  is  seldom  really 
touching." 

Meanwhile,  the  artist  was  far  from  all  these  disturbing 
influences.  She  quietly  lived  in  her  dream  of  nature  and 
its  mystery.  An  hour  had  passed  in  uninterrupted  work, 


j^  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

when  she  heard  approaching  footsteps.  Supposing  her 
companions  to  be  near,  without  even  glancing  up  from  the 
canvas,  she  gave  expression  to  her  thoughts  in  measured 
sentences  something  like  the  following :  "  They  baffle  me, 
those  changing  shadows  upon  the  hills.  I  put  them  in,  I 
put  them  out.  Each  fleeting  effect  seems  more  beautiful 
than  the  last,  and  so  I  try  to  catch  it.  If  I  could  only  keep 
to  the  one  idea,  when  once  recorded,  keep,  it,  the  same 
effect  often  returns  and — " 

"Wai,  I  dunno,"  said  a  deep  voice,  in  a  sort  of  grunt, 
behind  her.  • 

The  artist  started  violently,  nearly  upsetting  her  easel. 

"  Wai,  I  dunno,"  it  said,  and  a  horny  hand  came  forward 
over  her  shoulder  to  save  her  picture  from  falling,  imprint- 
ing a  big  thumb  in  the  sky  in  one  corner.  Not  at  all 
aware  of  the  fright  he  had  caused,  or  of  any  harm  done  to 
the  sketch,  the  honest  man  continued  :  "  It  beats  all  fire, 
how  you  can  do  it,"  and  a  burly  figure  came  round  to  her 
side  and  scanned  the  picture  closely.  "  I  'spect  it  pays, 
though.  I've  heerd  how  they  get  big  prices  for  them  kind. 
He  paintin',  ain't  it  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  artist. 

"  Wai,  I  vow.  Do  tell  how  much  you  expect  to  get  for 
that !  It 's  terrible  real  now,  ain't  it  ?  "  He  looked  at  it 
from  one  side  and  then  from  the  other.  "That  blue  sky 
now,  and  them  hills ;  I  tell  ye,  it  can't  be  beat !  I  say, 
how  much  '11  you  git  'f  it  sells  ? " 

"I  always  wait  for  a  purchaser.  It  will  be  time  enough 
then  to  set  a  price,"  answered  the  lady,  smiling. 

"I  don't  suppose  now  I  could  buy  it.       Squire  Jim  had 


THE  ARTISTS  DAY.  j^e 

his  place  took,  barn  and  all.  'T  wa'n't  colored,  you  know  ; 
took  by  a  photographer,  and  he  spent  nigh  onto  two  dol- 
lars for't.  I'd  give  that  'f  I  could  have  it  all  colored;  but 
probable  you  ain't  a-takin'  it  for  money,"  said  he,  half- 
ashamed  of  his  offer,  and  looking  at  her  a  little  sheepishly. 

"Not  just  now,  but  if  your  farm  is  near,  and  I  could  get 
there  easily,  I  might  find  some  good  cattle,  or  a  favorite 
horse  or  cow,  to  sketch  for  you." 

"Oh,  now,  would  you?  That  would  be  kind.  Could 
you  paint  my  Jersey  cow?  Registered  stock, — pretty 
creetur  as  I  ever  milked.  Gentle.,  too,  as  a  kitten." 

"Very  well.  To-morrow,  if  you  will  come  and  show  me 
the  way,"  said  Miss  St.  John.  "I  would  like  right  well  to 
see  her.  I  am  fond  of  cows — at  a  picturesque  distance. 
We  are  at  Widow  Ryerson's,  down  by  the  post-office." 

The  good  man  was  heartily  pleased,  and  with  some 
further  complimentary  remarks  upon  her  skill  he  walked 
away,  saying  he  would  "hitch  up  and  take  her  over  in  the 
morning,"  and  the  artist  fell  busily  to  work  again. 

After  a  time  she  heard  approaching  footsteps  again,  and 
turned  to  face  the  intruder  this  time. 

"  Ain't  it  pretty  ?  "  It  was  a  small,  weak-looking  woman, 
who,  however,  showed  a  lively  interest  in  the  strange  lady 
and  her  picture. 

"That's  them  trees  off  there,  ain't  it?"  she  said,  look- 
ing entirely  in  the  wrong  direction.  "Oh,"  with  a  nod,  as 
she  was  righted  in  the  view  by  the  artist.  "It's  first-rate, 
any  how;  I  couldn't  begin  to  do  it  so  well  myself,"  and 
she  passed  on,  wrapping  a  faded  shawl  tighter  about  her 
slight  form. 

w.  &  w. — 10 


I46  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

The  school  now  had  its  recess.  The  children,  catching 
sight  of  the  umbrella  and  easel,  made  a  rush  for  the  stand 
and  soon  surrounded  the  artist,  not  quite  to  her  pleasure, 
She  made  no  sign  of  consciousness  of  their  presence. 
They  in  turn  fell  into  a  sudden  silence.  Little  whisper- 
ings went  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  See  how  she  dips  in  all  them  colors  !  " 

"  What  great  long  brushes  !  " 

"And  what  a  lot  of  'em, — one,  three,  four,  seven, — ten 
all  together ! " 

"See  that  umbrella;  how  funny  it  sets  on  the  stick." 

They  were  all  so  quiet,  nudging,  and*  whispering,  and 
treading  their  little  feet  on  the  turf,  that  Miss  St.  John  was 
amazed  on  turning  to  find  some  twenty  or  more  boys  and 
girls  staring  at  her  work. 

One  little  boy  and  his  sister  had  climbed  up  on  the  fence. 
Their  relationship  was  apparent  in  the  two  tip-tilted  noses, 
which  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  each  other.  The  boy 
sat  on  the  top  rail  holding  on  to  the  bar  with  his  hands 
between  his  knees.  The  little  girl  stood  upon  the  lower 
rail  and  resting  her  elbows  upon  the  top  of  the  fence,  sup- 
ported her  fat  cheeks  upon  her  tiny  fists.  The  artist  en- 
gaged the  others  in  conversation  until  she  had  made  a 
rapid  sketch  of  these  two,  and  then  said  :  "  Now,  the  one 
that  wants  his  picture  put  in  just  here,"  pointing  to  her 
canvas  in  the  fore-ground,  "may  run  off  there  and  take 
that  stick  and  hunt  for  chestnuts  in  the  leaves.  Now, 
when  I  call  stop,  then  he  must  stand  quite  still  for  five 
minutes." 

A  dozen  eager  ones  ran  for  the  stick,  but  one  quiet  little 


THE  ARTIST'S  DAY. 


147 


fellow  caught  it,  and  also  the  idea,  for  when  the  word  stop 
came  he  was  able  to  pose  in  a  very  satisfactory  manner. 
His  fair-haired  little  sister  stood  behind,  eagerly  watching 
the  progress  of  the  study,  calling  out  to  him  from  time  to 
time :  "  Keep  still  a  little  longer,  Eddie, — one  minute 
more ! "  in  the  proud  supposition  that  she  was  lending 
material  aid  to  the  artist. 


Soon  a  modest  young  woman  appeared  at  the  school- 
house  door  and  rang  a  bell,  and  the  children  ran  reluc- 
tantly back  to  their  books,  not  without  first  stopping  to  see 
how  the  little  boy  was  put  upon  the  canvas. 

"Jest  as  if  he  stood  there,  ain't  it  ? "  and  all  scampered 
away  in  haste. 

Miss  St.  John  was  left  in  quietude  again.    The  shadows 


WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 


were  lessening.  The  artist's  hour  was  passing.  Under 
the  advancing  noonday  sun,  Miss  St.  John  was  giving  the 
last  touches  to  her  picture,  when  a  surly-looking  old  man 

made  his  appear- 
ance, coming  over 
the  neighboring 
hill. 

"Say,"  he  accost- 
ed the  lady,  in  a 
rude  tone;  his  hat 
was  pushed  down 
upon  his  head  with 
a  determined  air; 
"say,  if  you  think 
you  can  set  down 
here,  and  paint 
around  my  place, 
and  then  send  in 
your  bill,  as  they 
did  last  year  for 
Deacon  Wells's 
house,  you  '11  be 
mistaken.  Mis' 
Gleason,  what's  jest 
been  here,  told  me 
you  was  here  to 
work,  and  I  want  ter  tell  you  beforehand  that  I  ain't  a-goin' 
to  pay  no  such  bills.  I  ain't  no  objections  to  your  settin' 
and  your  paintin',  but  I  warn  you  now  that  I  ain't  doin'  no 
payin'." 


THE  ARTIST'S  DAY.  J.Q 

"  Here  is  a  queer  individual,"  thought  the  lady,  "I  think 
I  will  be  deaf,  just  now." 

Instantly  she  glanced  at  his  moving  lips  with  a  dazed 
expression,  though  inwardly  much  amused,  and  applied  her 
hand  to  her  ear. 

"Deef,  eh!" 

She  inclined  a  little  more  toward  him  as  he  stood  before 
her,  with  a  basket  of  potatoes  in  his  hand.  She  still  ex- 
pressed no  understanding  of  the  situation.  He  repeated, 
in  a  louder  tone:  "I  hain't  no  objections  to  a  lady  set- 
tin'—" 

She  arose  as  if  to  hear  more  distinctly;  she  seemed  so 
very  deaf. 

"  ^.nd  paintin' !  "  he  screamed.  Still  she  did  not  hear. 
"Thunder!  "  he  muttered,  "I'd  ruther  pay  her  bill  than  to 
set  them  school-children  at  me  with  this  hollerin'.  Little 
torments,  they  '11  pester  a  fellow  about  anything.  They 
are  jest  like  hornets.  It  don't  make  no  odds  if  they  ain't 
very  big ;  I  don't  want  'em  to  git  set  on  to  me  ag'in,  as  they 
did  t  'other  day  when  I  got  mad  cause  they  'd  broke  down 
my  bars,"  and  casting  an  uneasy  glance  at  the  windows  of 
the  school-house,  he  started  back  over  the  way  he  had 
come,  talking  to  himself.  "I  wonder  if  she  makes  her 
livin'  at  that  blasted  nonsense.  Humph!  Wai,  my 
farm's  pertaters,  and  they  bring  an  honest  livin'.  I  don't 
suppose  she  makes  enough  at  that  torn-foolery,  a-settin' 
and  a-paintin'  on  that  paper  stuff,  to  put  salt  on  'em.  I 
reckon  they  don't  git  much  outer  me  with  their  pictures. 
If  she  beared  or  didn't  hear,  she's  been  warned,  and  if  she 
brings  in  a  bill,  I  won't  pay  a  darned  turnup  for  the  trash. 


JCQ  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

That 's  all  there  is  about  it.  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  the 
creeturs  around.  I  don't  hanker  after  'em  gittin'  into  my 
diggin's.  Now,  if  Betsy  Ann  was  to  set  eyes  on  sech 
doin's,  she  would  soon  be  sp'ilt  for  the  fryin'-pan  and  the 
wash-tub.  I  have  seen  it  before.  I  have  had  trouble 
enough  with  the  boys,  a-learnin'  city  goin's  on  and  turnin' 
away  from  the  lights  of  their  parents.  I  don't  calkerlate 
to  see  Betsy  sp'iled  too,"  and  he  strode  over  the  fence  into 
the  adjoining  lot.  *'  But  I  've  warned  the  creetur !  "  He 
turned  and  saw  the  quiet  worker  picking  up  her  things  for 
removal. 

As  she  watched  his  retreating  steps,  she  saw  a  rough, 
uncanny  man,  with  a  pack  on  his  back,  meet  him,  and 
after  a  moment's  wrangling,  he  came  on  towards  the  woods, 
shaking  his  black  and  curly  head  and  pounding  his^'thick 
staff  into  the  ground  at  every  step.  He  was  evidently 
angry  at  what  he  considered  interference  with  his  trade,- 
and  consequently  not  likely  to  be  very  agreeable  to  any 
defenseless  woman. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  sighed  the  artist,  "  here  is  another.  I  wish 
I  were  out  of  this.  I  do  not  like  his  looks.  I  do  wish  the 
girls  would  come." 

She  dared  not  blow  her  whistle,  lest  she  might  attract 
his  attention,  when  possibly  he  might  pass  on  without 
noticing  her.  But,  no ;  he  saw  her,  and,  turning  aside 
from  his  way,  he  made  rapid  strides  in  her  direction.  She 
affected  not  to  see  him,  but  kept  busily  at  her  picking  up. 

"  Penting,  hey  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  hideous  grin,  and  he 
stood  looking  at  her  as  he  leaned  upon  his  stick.  Then 
he  let  down  the  pack  which  he  carried  from  his  back. 


THE  ARTISTS  DAY. 


"'Veil,  uf  you'd  ghoost  step  'ere  und  look  at  my  laces  —  " 
Hereupon  he  was  proceeding  to  open  a  case  and  to  hold 
out  some  of  his 
stock,  when 
Miss  St.  John 
said  decidedly 
that  she  did  not  i 
wish  to  buy. 
"Veil, 
xna'm,  uf 
you  ghoost 
but  look  at 
dem,  I'm 
sure  we'll 
strike 
barg'n." 
He  camel 
close  to' 
her  side, 

and  looked  into  het 
face  with  a  leer. 

Shuddering  with 
fear  and  disgust, 
she  did  not  dare  to 
"betray  the  least  per- 

turbation,     so    she  -  ity  of  his  dirty 

looked    coolly   at  I  /  <qdo 

him,    but    drawing  I  /    notwant 

off  a  little  from  the  \  ^    ^ 

unbearable  proxim-  ^    x  no  money." 


JJJ2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

The  man  jeered  as  he  glanced  at  her  white  hands  and 
at  her  earrings.  "  I  nefer  gif  up  a  lufly  ladee  like  you, 
vithout  making  some  kind  uf  a  barg'n.  Really,  now,  uf 
you  hav  n't  no  money,  you  might  like  to  trade  those  ear- 
rings or  that  ring  for  something.  I  am  sure  I  could  per- 
suade you — "  he  was  insisting  with  one  hand  raised,  palm 
upward,  to  his  ear  as  he  held  his  shaggy  head  on  one  side. 

"  I  tell  you  I  do  not  wish  for  any  of  your  goods !  "  Miss 
St.  John  hoped  to  get  rid  of  him  without  serious  trouble. 
But  now  he  took  a  quick  step  towards  her,  saying,  with  a 
hard  look  :  "  You  shall  buy  sometings.  The  old  man  has 
insuked  me,  und  now  I  vill  have  some  money  from  you ! "" 

Quick  as  thought,  Miss  St.  John  started  back,  and 
drawing  a  pistol  from  her  little  pocket,  she  pointed  down 
the  road. 

"  If  you  are  going  down  the  road,  sir,"  she  said,  calmly 
as  she  could,  "and  should  see  a  blue-jay,  I  wish  you 
would  just  whistle  a  bit.  I  want  another  specimen  for 
mounting.  I'm  doing  a  little  sharpshooting  this  morning  ; 
brought  down  two  little  fellows  just  now  and  wouldn't 
mind  doing  it  again  before  dinner." 

She  was  able  to  speak  quite  easily  before  she  had  fin- 
ished this  sentence,  and  as  she  did  so  she  turned  the  pistol 
in  a  careless  manner  toward  the  impudent  peddler. 

He  gave  a  quick,  sharp  look  at  her  impassable  counte- 
nance, and  shut  his  box  together  in  trembling  haste.  He 
closely  watched  her  as  he  drew  the  straps  and  threw  the 
huge  burden  to  his  shoulder. 

"  I  '11  whistle,  yes,  when  I  get  down  the  road.  I  '11  hurry,, 
yes  ;  I'll  see  a  blue-bird  for  you." 


THE  ARTIST'S  DAY.  j^ 

Miss  St.  John  saw  that  she  had  made  the  desired  im- 
pression, and  that  the  man  was  thoroughly  alarmed. 

"  P-please,  ma'm,  wait  till  I  get  out  of  the  line,  ladies 
don't  always  aim  straight.  Goot-by.  Don't  shoot  till  I 
get  away,  quite." 

The  pack  was  on  his  back,  and  he  was  out  of  sight  be- 
fore the  artist  had  fully  convinced  herself  of  the  success 
of  her  ruse. 

Replacing  the  toy  pistol  in  her  pocket,  she  blew  three 
shrill  notes  upon  her  whistle.  This  soon  recalled  her  three 
companions,  who  were  tired  of  their  trampings,  and  came 
briskly  back  at  her  call 

"  Really,  I  do  believe  Aunt  Dude  is  scared.  How  pale 
she  looks ! " 

"What  is  it?" 

"  I  don't  see  anything  to  be  afraid  of." 

"What  is  the  matter,  Dude  ? " 

"  I  am  afraid  we  shall  be  late  for  dinner,"  answered  the 
artist. 

"  Is  that  all  ? " 

They  went  back  to  the  Widow  Ryerson's,  down  by  the 
post-office,  to  dinner. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


a 

THE  next  stopping-place  on  the  pleasant  journey  down 
the  river  was  at  the  house  of  an  uncle  of  Mrs. 
Mather's.  Mr.  Stearns  had  been  many  times  pleasantly 
entertained  at  the  cosy  home  of  his  niece  in  the  city.  He 
was  a  widower,  without  children,  dependent  upon  a  house- 
keeper for  society,  and  was  greatly  delighted  to  welcome 
the  party  of  high-spirited  young  women,  feeling  that  their 
liveliness  waked  up  his  youthful  spirits,  and  cleared 
away  the  cobwebs  of  old  fogyism  which  a  life  of  loneliness 
and  inaction  had  fostered.  So  he  made  it  very  pleasant 
for  the  travelers,  only  sorry  to  hear  them  say  that  they 
would  stay  but  a  day  or  two  under  his  hospitable  roof. 

Thursday  morning,  two  weeks  from  the  day  of  their  de- 
parture from  home,  the  four  gleesome  friends,  with  bound- 
ing blood  and  an  exhilaration  induced  by  healthful  exercise 
in  the  open  air,  long  hours  of  refreshing  sleep,  and  appe- 
tites which  astonished  and  flattered  their  caterers,  started 
out  in  quest  of  chestnuts. 

"There's  plenty  of  them  down  on  the  edge  of  Farn- 
ham's  woods,"  said  their  good  host,  "  and  as  the  frost  was 

(154) 


THEY  GO   CHESTNUTTING.  jce 

sharp  last  night,  I  reckon  they'll  come  down  lively  Ihis 
morning,"  and  he  directed  them  to  the  woods  a  mile  away. 

"  Good-by,  Mr.  Stearns,"  called  Mahala,  as  they  started 
their  wheels.  "  Remember  and  have  plenty  of  dinner  for 
for  us  at  noon,  for  we  shall  be  hungry  as  four  bears  when 
we  get  back  with  our  bags  full  of  chestnuts." 

"  Good,"  responded  their  genial  host,  to  whom  Mahala's 
merry  quips  and  gibes  were  welcome  as  sunshine. 
•"  We  '11  try  and  roast  beef  enough  to  satisfy  you  !  " 

"  Who  are  the  young  ladies  who  seem  to  be  enjoying 
an  ideal  pleasure-trip  ?  "  said  a  young  man  in  hunting- 
jacket  and  knickerbockers,  who  had  come  around  the 
house  with  his  gun  and  dog,  just  in  time  to  see  the 
tricycles  glide  swiftly  away. 

'  "  Morning,  Philip,"  said  Mr.  Stearns,  without  taking  his 
«yes  from  the  departing  quartette.  "  Is  n't  it  a  queer 
sight  ?  They  came  here  last  night,  from  Hartford.  I 
don't  mean  to  say  they  came  direct  from  there,  because 
they  have  been  two  weeks  on  the  road.  One  of  them  is 
my  niece.  She 's  married  — " 

"  Which  one  ?  " 

"  Well,  the  little  plump  one ;  she 's  riding  behind  now. 
Her  husband  is  F.  W.  Mather,  of  Wright,  Mather  & 
Company." 

Mahala  was  now  looking  around  and  pointing  at  some- 
thing by  the  wayside.  She  was  laughing  as  usual,  and 
showing  her  pretty  teeth.  Her  mouth  was  a  generous  one, 
as  her  brothers  often  told  her  in  moments  of  unpleasant- 
ness. Her  piquant  profile  came  into  view  as  she  threw 
back  some  laughing  words  at  her  aunt. 


jijg  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  Ah,  who  is  the  one  turning  around  now  ?  "  asked  the 
hunter  carelessly. 

"  Oh,  that 's  Miss  Wright,"  responded  the  older  man, 
heartily,  "  and  she  is  the  life  of  the  party,  though  none  of 
them  get  left  very  often.  Four  fresher  and  brighter  girls 
I  never  saw  before,"  he  added. 

"Oh!"  said  the  young  man.  As  he  went  off  in  the 
opposite  direction,  he  smiled — he  laughed  outright.  Some- 
thing in  his  thoughts  was  very  amusing.  Soon  he 
stopped ;  then,  as  he  came  to  a  set  of  bars  in  the  stone 
wall,  he  entered  the  fields,  making  a  slight  detour  back  of 
the  house.  He  came  out  into  the  road  and  tramped  away 
in  the  direction  our  party  had  taken. 

The  first  severe  frost  of  the  season  lay  upon  the  field  s, 
as  the  tricycle  party  trundled  along.  The  fences  were 
white  with  its  glistening  rime,  and  the  leaves  of  plants 
and  tender  shrubs  hung  limp  and  blackened  by  its  nipping 
breath  ;  but  every  blade  of  grass,  every  spike  of  dried 
golden-rod,  and  every  fallen  twig  were  as  sparkling  crys- 
tals, along  the  shaded  places.  The  clear  and  bracing  air 
lent  a  new  color  to  the  faces  of  the  travelers,  and  they  ran 
rapidly  over  the  smooth  road  to  keep  their  blood  in  quick 
circulation.  They  all  wore  perforated  chamois  jackets 
under  their  dresses,  and  in  vigorous  exercise  defied  Jack 
Frost. 

As  the  sun  rose  higher,  the  myriad  of  tiny  ice  crystals 
which  earlier  gemmed  everything  out  of  doors,  wasted 
away.  The  air  was  softened  under  its  warm  rays,  and  a 
saucy  squirrel  ran  along  the  wall,  now  in,  now  out,  up  and 
down  the  fence-posts,  with  a  flick  of  his  brown  tail  and  a 


THEY  GO   CHESTNUTTING.  j^ 

little  chatter  at  these  new  intruders  upon  his  highway.  A 
covey  of  quail  started  up  at  their  approach,  but  at  a  signal 
from  the  anxious  mother  they  scattered  in  all  directions 
and  lay  motionless  beneath  the  brown  leaves  until  the 
strangers  had  passed.  It  was  a  worrisome  time  for  poor 
Mrs.  Bob  White  with  her  family  of  eight  heedless  young 
ones,  who,  although  nearly  grown,  were  not  at  all  able  to 
care  for  themselves,  and  she  really  believed  they  would 
stand  staring  at  a  man  with  a  gun  until  they  were  all 
killed,  if  she  did  not  insist  on  their  swift  retirement  in  some 
friendly  nook.  You  are  in  no  danger  now,  little  mother, 
but  hie  away  quickly  under  the  wall,  for  there  may  be  a 
hunter  on  the  road. 

"  There  are  the  woods,  I  am  sure,"  said  Mahala,  as  they 
pushed  their  machines  up  a  short,  steep  hill. 

"  Yes,  this  must  be  the  place,"  agreed  Margery,  and  they 
chained  and  locked  their  wheels  in  a  protected  corner  of 
the  lot  and  trudged  off  over  the  undulating  ground. 

"  O,  what  a  splendid  great  tree ! — there  must  be  bushels 
on  this,"  said  Margery,  who,  with  Mrs.  Mather,  had  gone 
ahead.  They  seized  some  gnarled  and  crooked  sticks 
which  were  lying  on  the  ground,  and  began  to  poke  and 
brush  the  brown  leaves  which  thickly  strewed  the  turf ; 
but  they  searched  in  vain. 

"  There  dos  n't  seem  to  be  any  burrs  on  it,  either,"  said 
the  disappointed  young  lady,  looking  upward. 

"  Why  should  Mr.  Stearns  send  us  so  far,  for  nothing  ?  " 

"  He  probably  did  not  refer  to  this  tree,  Margie,  as  it 
is  an  oak,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  coming  up  ;  and  Mahala 
laughed  in  a  most  provoking  manner  as  they  passed  by  on 
their  way  towards  the  woods. 


jijg  WHEELS  AND  WHIMS. 

"  Ah !  Here  are  the  chestnut  trees,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Mather,  in  a  few  minutes,  "with  burrs  by  scores,  too. 
There  must  be  plenty  of  nuts  on  the  ground.  See !  The 
wide-open  burrs  with  their  golden  plush  linings  are  many 
of  them  empty." 

They  all  went  speedily  to  work,  picking  up  the  shining 
brown  nuts,  which  were  lying  by  twos  and  threes  upon  the 
faded  grass,  resting  upon  the  dried  leaves,  or  almost  hidden 
on  a  mat  of  green  moss  at  the  roots  of  the  trees.  They 
brushed  away  the  crackling  leaves  and  picked  up  the  fasci- 
nating harvest  until  they  had  perhaps  a  couple  of  quarts,, 
when  Margery  said,  "We  certainly  have  more  than  we  can 
use  already.  Why  take  any  more  ?  Some  boys  will 
doubtless  be  woefully  disappointed  to  find  them  all  gone, 
for  I  fancy  we  are  the  first  in  the  field,  and  anxious  young- 
sters will  be  here  to-day." 

"  All  right,  Margery,  you  are  a  dear  to  think  of  others 
in  such  an  exciting  moment ;  but  let 's  get  a  few  more 
for  Mr.  Stearns,"  said  Mahala,  and  as  she  kept  on  picking 
up  nuts,  eagerly  flying  here  and  there,  and  rapidly  filling 
her  bag,  the  others  returned  to-  the  captivating  pursuit  and 
were  all  as  busy  as  could  be,  when  Miss  St.  John  ejacu- 
lated faintly : 

"  Horror !  Here  comes  a  man  with  a  bull-dog.  And  he 
means  trouble !  See  how  red  his  face  is  ! " 

Striding  across  the  field  in  his  rough  boots  came  a  man 
that  one  would  dislike  to  meet  anywhere.  The  alarm 
of  the  almost  defenseless  women  was  not  without 
cause.  A  brutal  face  he  had,  with  coarse  overhanging 
brows,  and  he  showed  rows  of  irregular  and  monstrous 


THEY  GO   CHESTNUTTING.  l^ 

teeth,  as  he  came  cursing,  and  leading  a  fierce  bull-dog  by 
a  chain. 

Mrs.  Mather  instantly  laid  her  hand  on  her  hip.  She 
had  never  let  her  good  pistol  go  out  of  her  possession 
since  the  morning  when  they  had  the  false  alarm,  when 
she  had  loaned  it  to  Margery  to  practice  shooting  at  a 
mark.  Mahala's  suppositious  danger  from  tramps  had 
served  this  purpose,  to  make  her,  as  the  guardian  of  the 
safety  of  the  party,  more  careful  to  keep  her  weapon 
always  on  her  side. 

Miss  St.  John,  made  more  timid  by  her  encounter  with 
the  peddler,  a  few  days  previous,  now  began  to  feel  that 
ill-fortune  was  attending  the  latter  part  of  this  journey  so 
pleasantly  begun,  and  continued  so  successfully,  almost  to 
its  end. 

"What  are  yez  doin'  here  ! "  shouted  the  ruffian,  as  he 
came  nearer.  "  Stalin'  chestnuts,  oi  suppose  !  " 

"  Have  you  any  right  to  inquire,  sir  ? "  said  Mrs. 
Mather,  stepping  towards  him,  white  but  calm,  with  a 
proud  pose  of  the  head  and  a  glitter  in  her  eye  that  some- 
what cooled  the  man's  temper. 

"  In  coorse  I  have,  or  I  would  n't  be  here.  I  tell  ye, 
ye  must  lave  them  nuts  on  the  ground  or  pay  me  for  'em. 
Oi  s'pose  ye  know  thim  is  worth  two  dollars  a  bushel. 
It's  stalin'  ye  are,  however  foine  ladies  ye  be." 

"  We  care  nothing  for  your  chestnuts,  sir.  You  can 
gather  them  for  yourself,"  and  taking  her  bag  by  the  closed 
end,  the  lady  with  a  quick  gesture  scattered  the  nuts  far 
over  the  field.  "Only  relieve  us  of  your  insulting 
presence." 


j5o  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

This  act  of  defiance,  and  the  stinging  contempt  in  the 
last  remark,  was  enough  to  thoroughly  enrage  the  man. 
He  had  expected  to  bully  the  unprotected  girls  into  paying 
him  for  the  nuts,  or  by  forcing  them  to  give  up  the  con- 
tents of  their  bags,  to  reap  the  benefit  of  their  toil.  But 
now,  frantic  with  rage,  he  sprang  after  Mahala,  who  alone 
still  held  on  to  her  harvest,  and  with  a  frightful  oath  was 
about  to  lay  a  hand  upon  her  arm,  when  like  a  log  he  fell 
to  the  earth. 

His  dog  sprang  upon  him,  whining  and  licking  his  face. 
In  a  second  or  two  he  moved,  and  turning  upon  his  elbow 
to  get  up  he  met  the  eyes  of  a  young  man  in  hunting- 
jacket  and  knickerbockers,  who  stood  with  his  gun  in  his 
left  hand  looking  down  at  him.  The  fist  that  dealt  the 
stunning  blow  behind  the  ear  was  still  clenched  and  ready 
to  repeat  the  dose  if  necessary. 

Miss  St.  John  had  seen  the  stranger  running  towards 
them  almost  simultaneously  with  the  advent  of  the  fero- 
cious man  and  dog,  and  like  Sister  Ann,  in  story,  she  had 
waved  and  beckoned  with  energy  and  hope  to  the  rescuer. 

"  Now,  Finnegan,  tell  me  what  you  purposed  to  do  ! 
Insulting  and  terrifying  ladies  like  this ! "  said  the 
stranger,  with  fire  in  his  brown  eyes,  his  nostrils  distend- 
ing with  his  quick  breath  and  his  breast  heaving  with  in- 
dignation. 

"They  was  stalin'  the  nuts,  and  I  won't  have  it,"  mut- 
tered the  fallen  man,  sullenly,  and  he  glared  at  the  fright- 
ened party  like  a  caged  hyena. 

"  Stealing  is  a  poor  word  for  you  to  use,  who  are  only 
cutting  my  father's  wood  on  shares  !  I  have  heard  of  your 


THEY  GO   CHESTNUTTING. 


161 


villainous  robbing  of  boys  at  this  place,  and  when  I  heard 
these  ladies  were  coming  here,  I  took  pains  to  be  in  the 
vicinity.  Now,  take  your  miserable  carcass  off  the  land 
and  I  will  see  to  it  that  your  contract  on  these  premises 


ends  to-day.  Leave!  I  will  stay  here  to  see  you  go. 
Ladies,  perhaps  you  had  better  return  to  your  wheels," 
he  said,  politely  addressing  them. 

The   discomfited   scoundrel   had  risen  to  his  feet  and 
w.  fc.w.— 11 


jg2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

stood  stealthily  glowering  around,  under  pretence  of  ad- 
justing his  clothing.  As  he  stooped  to  recover  his  hat,  he 
hissed  "S-st!  boy!"  and  pointed  towards  the  ladies,  who 
were  starting  away  to  their  wheels.  The  beast  sprang 
forward  with  a  low  growl.  Instantly,  the  gentleman 
brought  his  piece  to  shoulder  and  the  bull-dog  rolled  over 
with  a  deadly  wound  in  his  side. 

"You  were  foolish,  Finnegan,  to  do  that,"  said  the 
young  man,  coolly,  as  he  turned  to  the  revengeful  brute, 
"  there 's  another  barrel  ready  for  you,  if  you  get  too 
wild.  I  fortunately  had  just  loaded,  as  I  came  upon  the 
scene  of  your  brilliant  exploits.  Now,  leave,  will  you  ?  " 

More  than  ever  baffled,  and  grinding  his  teeth  in  futile 
rage,  the  man  stopped  for  a  minute  to  bend  over  the 
defunct  dog,  and  seeing  that  he  was  dead,  gave  his  lifeless 
body  a  kick,  and  walked  sullenly  away. 

Their  protector  watched  the  furious  Irishman  well  out 
of  the  field,  saw  him  disappear  far  up  a  lane,  and  then 
walked  over  to  the  spot  at  a  little  distance  from  the  dis- 
agreeable encounter,  where  the  group  was  waiting  to 
express  their  appreciation  of  his  prompt  services  in  their 
behalf. 

"Ladies,"  he  said,  addressing  them  as  he  drew  near  and 
lifted  his  hat,  "  I  hope  you  will  suffer  no  ill  effects  from 
the  outrageous  conduct  of  that  brute."  He  turned  and 
looked  again  in  the  direction  the  man  had  taken.  "  I  re- 
gret, exceedingly,  that  I  have  not  insisted  upon  his  dis- 
charge before.  But  my  father,  considering  only  that  he 
was  a  good  worker,  would  not  listen  to  the  tales  of  his  ras- 
cality which  have  come  to  my  ears  since  I  came  home. 
Is  there  anything  more  I  can  do  for  you  ? " 


THEY  GO   CHESTNUTTING.  jg^ 

"  You  will  certainly  let  us  thank  you  for  your  assistance 
in  this  very  unpleasant  situation,"  said  Mrs.  Mather, 
warmly,  giving  him  her  hand.  He  accepted  the  friendly 
grasp  with  perfect  ease,  again  lifting  his  hat  from  his 
fine  head.  The  lady  continued,  "It  was  perhaps  foolhardy 
in  ladies  to  come  into  the  woods  alone,  but  we  have  never 
before  been  troubled."  (Miss  St.  John  had  said  nothing  of 
her  small  unpleasantness  with  the  peddler.)  "We  should 
be  glad  to  know  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  this  timely 
aid,"  she  added,  giving  him  a  look  of  frank  gratitude. 

"  My  name  is  Philip  Farnham,"  was  the  simple  and  direct 
reply.  "I  have  been  in  business  in  New  York  for  seven 
years,  but  return  to  my  home  here,  every  fall,  in  time  for 
•duck-shooting,"  and  he  gave  a  little  deprecatory  glance 
and  slight  shrug  at  his  worn  costume.  "  So  far  from  re- 
ceiving thanks  for  this  trifle,  I  acknowledge  that  I  am  glad 
to  have  had  the  opportunity  to  put  a  quietus  upon  that 
wretch,  no  less  than  to  be  of  service  to  you." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  chaperone,  "  we  can  never  forget  this 
experience,  and  my  husband,  Mr.  Frederick  W.  Mather, 
will  send  you  hearty  thanks."  She  turned  to  the  group 
behind  her.  "My  friends  are  Miss  St.  John,  Miss  Margery 
Prescott,  and  Miss  Mahala  Wright,  of  Hartford." 

The  artist  cordially  extended  her  hand,  Miss  Prescott 
made  a  graceful  inclination  of  her  tall  figure  and  expressed 
her  obligation  in  a  few  well-chosen  sentences ;  but  Mahala, 
blushing  furiously  for  some  unknown  cause,  said,  irrele- 
vantly, and  with  an  air  of  great  unconcern,  which  was  in- 
tended to  convey  the  idea  that  she  had  not  been  fright- 
ened at  all,  "I  am  glad  I  did  not  give  up  my  chestnuts," 
with  a  little  hitch  of  her  dimpled  chin. 


Tg4  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"So  am  I,  Miss  Wright,"  responded  the  new  acquain- 
tance, with  great  heartiness,  and  he  stood  and  looked  after 
with  a  curious  smile  as  she  skipped  lightly  away  to  the 
corner  where  the  tricycles  were.  Then,  after  making  a 
few  polite  remarks .  concerning  the  machines  and  their 
utility,  and  casting  another  look  about  him  to  assure  him- 
self that  the  furious  and  reckless  Irishman  was  at  a  safe 
distance  in  the  opposite  direction,  Philip  Farnham  bade 
the  party  good  morning  and  proceeded  down  the  road, 
thinking  that  the  mounting  of  the  tricycles  might  be  an 
awkward  thing  for  be-skirted  femininity,  and  he  would  not 
be  near  to  embarrass  them.  But  he  quickly  turned  about 
after  striking  into  the  brush,  and  from  this  coign  of  van- 
tage saw  that  his  fears  were  entirely  uncalled  for,  as  the 
gray  forms  stepped  inside  the  wheels  and  resting  lightly 
on  the  two  handles,  put  their  feet  upon  the  bars  in  front 
and  rose  gracefully  to  the  saddles.  They  gave  quick 
impetus  to  the  wheels  with  their  hands  and  were  away. 
Only  the  tips  of  their  toes  were  seen  beneath  the  heavy 
folds  of  their  skirts  as  the  treadles  rose  and  fell.  Certainly 
it  was  an  ideal  locomotion.  The  young  man  now  stepped 
out  of  the  brush  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  swiftly-reced- 
ing riders,  and  at  that  instant  Miss  Mahala  gave  a  look  to 
the  rear.  He  quickly  raised  his  hat,  and  she,  red  as  a  rose, 
impatiently  turned  her  eyes. 

Margery,  who  had  been  severely  shaken  by  the  fright, 
was  still  tremulous  and  pale.  "Oh,  girls!"  she  said, 
earnestly,  "what  a  fortunate  deliverance  out  of  the 
clutches  of  that  horrible  man !  I  could  not  have  run  a 
step,  I  trembled  so.  I  was  so  thankful  when  I  saw  this. 


THEY  GO  CHESTNUTTING.  jge 

gentleman  coming.  His  eyes  fairly  flashed  fire  as  he 
struck  the  man !  How  terrible  it  was  to  see  him  fall  so 
like,  a  clod  to  the  earth  !" 

"  But  what  an  admirable  person  Mr.  Farnham  seems  to 
•be,"  said  Miss  St.  John  ;  "  he  is  doubtless  of  a  good  family. 
You  could  see  that  in  his  well-shaped  hand. .  It  was  brown, 
to  be  sure,"  she  added,  "but  that  was  from  hunting,  of 
course.  I  like  side-whiskers,  too  ;  yes,  he  is  my  idea  of  a 
man." 

"Why,  Aunt  Dude!"  exclaimed* Mahala,  laughing  ner- 
vously, "you  would  not  fall  in  love  with  a  stranger,  and 
one  with  red  hair,  too  ! " 

"He  has  not  red  hair,"  spoke  up  Mrs.  Mather,  defen- 
sively; "it  is  just  a  lovely  auburn,  and  if  I  had  not  an 
old  fellow  somewhere,"  she  added,  with  a  little  yearning 
in  the  merry  tones,  "  I  am  not  sure  what  might  not  happen 
to  me.  Well,"  she  continued,  more  soberly,  "  It  certainly 
was  a  boon  to  us  that  such  a  muscular  cavalier  was  around." 

"Yes,"  grumbled  Mahala,  under  her  breath.  "He  is 
always  around,  I  believe." 

A  light  broke  upon  Mrs.  Mather. 

"  Some  people  are  always  happening  about,  and  intrud- 
ing themselves,"  said  the  perverse  girl,  with  surprising 
unreasonableness. 

"  Why,  Mike,"  exclaimed  Margery,  in  astonishment,  "  I 
never  saw  you  so  contrary.  What  ails  the  girl  ? " 

"  She  is  tired  and  cross,  I  suppose,"  was  Miss  St. 
John's  opinion  ;  but  Julie  Mather  had  her  own  ideas  about  it. 

"  There 's  nothing  the  matter,"  asserted  the  girl,  with 
some  petulance,  "  except  that  I  don't  agree  with  you  in 


j66  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

admiring  this  young  man.  Of  course,  it  was  very  obliging 
in  him  to  knock  the  man  down  and  kill  the  dog ;  though 
it  is  nothing  more  than  he  would  have  done  for  a  lot  of 
factory  girls ;  but  as  for  thinking  him  at  all  nice,  I  don't  ! 
I  can't  bear  the  sight  of  him  !  " 

Mrs.  Mather  gently  shook  her  head  at  Miss  St.  John, 
who  was  about  to  argue  with  her  pettish  niece,  and 
changed  the  subject  by  pointing  out  a  mendicant  robin, 
now  sadly  wandering  about  in  his  old  dilapidated  clothes, 
and  as  Mahala's  ready  Sympathy  with  all  living  creatures 
in  feathers  and  fur  went  out  at  once  to  him,  good  humor 
was  once  more  restored. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  said  Mahala,  in  humorous  pity,  "  he  is 
not  such  a  dandy,  now,  as  when  he  came  out  in  the  spring  ! 
What  a  handsome  swell  he  was  then,  in  his  jet  black  cap 
and  red  vest !  and  now  how  shabby  he  is,  to  be  sure !  You 
had  better  get  into  the  thicket  and  out  of  sight  as  soon  as 
you  can,  young  fellow!  You  areftasse  for  this  year." 

Mr.  Stearns  was  much  disturbed  to  hear  of  the  perilous 
adventure  which  had  befallen  his  guests,  and  blamed  him- 
self, over  and  over  again,  for  allowing  them  to  go  into  the 
fields  alone.  He  was  saying  this  for  the  twentieth  time 
as  they  sat  at  the  dinner-table. 

"  Oh,  we  should  probably  have  come  out  all  right,  uncle, 
if  I  had  not  lost  my  temper  and  scattered  the  nuts  around,"" 
said  Julie. 

"  Temper !"  roared  Uncle  Stearns,  bringing  down  his 
fist  upon  the  table  so  that  all  the  glasses  jingled.  "Great 
Scott  !  who  could  keep  his  temper  under  such  an  insult  ? 
I  wish  I  had  the  villain  here,"  said  the  wrathful  old 


THEY   GO   CHESTNUTTING.  567 

gentleman,  tightening  his  fingers.     "  I'd  wring  his  neck  for 
him  !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  giving  her  head  a  satisfied 
little  shake,  "young  Mr.  Farnham  fixed  his  ear  for  him. 
That 's  one  sure  thing  !  " 

"  So  the  fiend  was  reaching  for  Mahala,  was  he,  when 
Farnham  knocked  him  down !  Well,  well,  that  would 
annoy  a  handsome  young  fellow  like  Phil." 

Mahala  winced  under  the  old  man's  harmless  joke, 
and  found  no  pert  answer  like  those  which  usually  came 
to  her  lips. 

"  Uncle,"  said  Julie,  as  their  plates  were  changed  for  pie, 
"you  are  probably  well  acquainted  with  Mr.  Farnham. 
He  seems  to  be  a  well-bred  person." 

"Well-bred?  Why,  certainly.  The  Farnham  s  are  one 
of  the  oldest  and  most  respectable  families  in  Essex,  and 
Philip,  personally,  is  fully  up  to  the  standard.  He  is  the 
youngest  partner  of  Estey,  Brown  &  Company,  wool 
brokers  in  New  York,  and  is  rich,  they  say.  That  is  of 
no  consequence,  however,  as  he  is  an  energetic  worker 
and  a  real  gentleman." 

."Mrs.  Bronson,"  Mahala  whispered  to  the  housekeeper 
at  the  beginning  of  this  eulogy,  "I  do  not  care  for 
dessert;  may  I  be  excused?"  and  had  quietly  left  the 
room.  But  astute  Mrs.  Mather  noticed  that  she  lingered 
in  the  hall  long  enough  to  hear  it  through,  and  was 
inwardly  amused,  for  she  knew  that  if  there  was  anything 
Mahala  doted  upon  it  was  squash-pie  and  new  cheese. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

e  ^FcMH4ri-ci4Hd  call   t^povi-  -t&c 


AT  evening,  Mr.  Stearns's  rather  bare  and  uninterest- 
ing sitting-room  had  taken  an  unusually  bright  and 
cosy  appearance. 

Her  uncle,  who  had  been  looking  through  the  telegraph 
columns  of  the  paper,  turned  to  the  cheery  group  around 
the  center-table  and  said,  "Julie,  I  hope  you  and  your 
friends  will  come  here  soon  again."  He  took  off  his 
glasses  and  sat  regarding  the  young  ladies,  who  were 
gracing  his  home,  with  unalloyed  pleasure  as  he  wiped  and 
polished  his  spectacles.  "  I  never  realized  how  dreary 
the  house  was  until  you  came.  Somehow,  you  seem  to 
furnish  it  with  life  and  color." 

Mahala  was  curled  up  in  the  corner  of  the  wide  lounge, 
reading  an  old-fashioned  love-story  which  she  had  found  in 
the  top  of  the  "secretary"  and  drawn  forth  from  its 
uncongenial  companionship  with  a  concordance,  a  dic- 
tionary, Young's  "Night  Thoughts,"  Pope's  "Essay  on 
Man,"  Watts'  "On  the  Mind,"  some  almanacs,  and  other 
miscellany. 

068) 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  jgg 

She  wore  a  tea-gown  of  light  blue,  with  dainty  ruffles 
at  the  throat  and  wrists.  One  slender  foot,'  clad  in 
black  silk  hose  and  pointed  slipper  showed  underneath 
the  graceful  folds  of  the  soft  cashmere  robe,  and  her  deep 
blue  eyes  with  fringed  dark  lashes  ran  back  and  forth 
along  the  quaint  lines  of  the  book  she  read. 

Plump  Mrs.  Mather,  who  knew  her  possibilities  and  did 
not  tamper  with  esthetic  styles  in  clothing,  wore  a  per- 
fectly-fitting dress  of  dark  maroon  velvet.  She  was  busily 
engaged  in  making  a  napkin-holder  for  her  uncle.  She 
had  seen  that  the  dear  old  man  was  in  continual  trouble 
with  this  convenient  article  at  table.  He  would  drop  it  to 
the  floor,  recover  it,  and  tuck  it  into-  his  bosom  or  into  his 
coat-tail  pocket,  and  when  it  was  needed  was  surprised 
and  annoyed  at  its  unaccountable  absence  from  his  knees, 
and  would  hunt  for  it,  slapping  his  sides  and  looking  under 
his  chair  in  vain  search.  So,  with  a  pair  of  clasps  which 
she  had  found  at  the  store,  and  a  bit  of  ribbon,  she  was 
working  on  some  "stitches"  in  silk  floss,  and  deftly 
fashioned  the  useful  little  article  as  she  chatted  of 
pleasant  things. 

"Be  sure  you  wear  it,  won't  you,  uncle?"  she  said; 
"for  if  you  use  it  once  you  will  never  be  without  one. 
Fred  finds  his  invaluable.  I  will  keep  you  supplied  as  they 
get  worn." 

Miss  St.  John,  always  in  subdued  colors,  had  exchanged 
her  gray  wheel-dress  for  a  genteel  black  silk,  which  was 
soft  and  lusterless,  and  was  mechanically  knitting  on  some 
scarlet  wools.  She  was  discussing  charitable  societies, 
and  the  results  of  their  work,  with  Mr.  Stearns.  He  was 


IJQ  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

disposed  to  think  that  the  ponderous  machinery  of  some 
of  these  institutions  absorbed  much  of  the  money  donated 
by  a  trusting  public.  "  It  seems  all  out  of  proportion  to 
the  meager  results,"  he  was  saying.  "  In  a  town  of  say 
fifty  thousand  inhabitants,  which  are  largely  counted 
among  the  upper  class,  with  small  and  easily  get-at-able  poor 
districts,  with  the  town  alms-house,  Widows'  Home,  Church 
Home,  Woman's  Aid  Society,  Woman's  Christian  Associa- 
tion, Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  and  half  a  dozen 
other  associations,  it  would  seem  impossible  for  any  pauper 
to  escape,  and  as  if  the  tone  of  morals  must  be  well-nigh  per- 
fect. Is  such  the  result  of  your  evangelical  guild,  your 
combination  for  city  charity,  and  your  free  kindergartens, 
sewing-schools,  and  reading-rooms  ?  It  is  the  impression 
among  us  country  people,  that  it  is  a  lot  of  fuss  and 
feathers,  without  any  adequate  result  from  the  thousands 
of  dollars  which  are  poured  out  every  year  for  the  poor." 
The  lady  raised  her  bright  gray  eyes  to  his  honest  face. 
"That  there  is  considerable  machinery  about  the  system  of 
organized-  charity  there  is  no  doubt,  and  probably  full  as 
much  in  our  city  as  in  larger  places,  because  it  has  become 
the  fashionable  thing  to  do.  You  see,  we  ladies  of  the 
inner  circles  do  no  work.  We  attend  the  meetings  and 
see  that  no  outsiders  come  in  to  vote  different  methods 
from  those  we  consider  to  be  proper.  Money  we  collect 
from  the  lay  members  each  year,  to  be  sure,  but  there 
their  usefulness  ends,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  half 
a  dozen  devoted  women,  who  sit  and  cut  out  garments ; 
manage  the  different  departments ;  and  report  to  us  once 
a  year.  We  vote  to  accept  their  work.  Most  of  us  are 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  j^j 

too  toney  to  know  how  to  sew,  and  are  too  delicate  to 
make  personal  visits  to  our  protegees,  and  so  we  hire  an 
almoner  to  do  it  for  us." 

"Ha!  ha!"  laughed  the  amused  listener. 

"Now,  Dude,  you  stop  such  sarcasm,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Mather,  who  was  smiling  in  spite  of  herself,  while  her 
cheeks  were  hot  with  vexation.  "  You  know  it  is  far  better 
to  give  the  dispensation  of  alms  to  a  competent  person 
than  to  work  individually,  oftentimes  at  cross  purposes, 
repeating  assistance  to  some  families  and  neglecting  others 
who  are  worthy." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true,  Julie,  if  the  whole  idea  of  these  institu- 
tions, publicly  organized  to  support  the  thriftless  portion  of 
the  community,  who  are  too  lazy,  or  too  abandoned  to  all 
responsibility  in  their  own  or  in  their  children's  welfare 
to  work  for  themselves,  is  not  fundamentally  erroneous." 

"  These  are  certainly  vexed  questions,"  said  Miss.  St. 
John,  fairly,  "  and  felt  to  be  so  by  many  members  of 
charitable  societies.  The  fact  is,  certain  men  will  waste 
their  money,  whether  their  families  are  helped  or  not. 
The  question  then,  is,  will  you  let  their  wives  and  babies 
freeze  and  starve  because  you  cannot  convert  them  from 
their  worthlessness  ? " 

"You  must  look  at  the  effect  of  your  work  in  the 
aggregate,"  insisted  Uncle  Stearns. 

"We'  know  it  is  a  thankless,  discouraging,  and  heart- 
weary  task,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  troubled  with  the  recol- 
lection of  her  trials  in  the  work,  "  and  none  realize  it  so 
well  as  those  who  come  into  direct  contact  with  the  poor. 
But  shall  we  stop  work  because  we  do  not  see  direct 
results  for  our  pains  ?  " 


T-2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS 

"Perhaps  not,"  answered  Mr.  Stearns,  who  was  a  trifle 
hard-headed,  although  notoriously  soft-hearted ;  but  the  head 
held  control,  as  a  man's  always  should.  "  But  should  we 
not  look  to  the  showing  of  ten  years,  in  order  to  judge 
fairly  of  the  result  of  the  instinctive  sympathy  which  you 
philanthropic  souls  have  extended  to  these  suffering  classes, 
without  considering  whether  you  were  not  indirectly  work- 
ing harm  to  humanity  in  general  ?  Now,  is  the  amount  of 
pauperism  in  your  city  less  in  proportion  to  the  population 
than  it  was  a  decade  ago  ?  If  not,  your  institutions  are 
falling  far  short  of  their  object.  While  in  town  the  other 
day,  I  was  in  Judge  Green's  office,  and  the  subject  was 
under  discussion.  He,  and  other  practical  men  who  were 
there,  claimed  that  poverty  is  steadily  increasing  in  Hart- 
ford, in  spite  of  the  astoundingly  large  sum  which  statistics 
show  has  been  devoted  to  bettering  the  condition  of  igno- 
rant and  helpless  humanity.  Facts,  Julie,  are — " 

"Stubborn  things.  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Mather, 
with  her  own  inimitable  faculty  of  playful  abuse,  which 
was  generally  rather  flattering  to  the  recipient,  "and  so 
are  hard-hearted  old  uncles,  who  talk  very  severely  and  yet 
would  stop  to  kick  a  caterpillar  out  of  their  path  rather  than 
tread  upon  it  !  I  saw  you  do  it  this  morning !  Now, 
permit  me  to  say  that  these  same  facts  which  are  ever 
referred  to  as  incontrovertible,  can  be  arranged  or  selected 
so  as  to  prove  almost  anything.  Your  crushing  reference 
to  statistics  only  implies,  to  me,  that  whereas  ten  years 
ago  we  passed  by  on  the  other  side,  unconscious  of  or 
indifferent  to  the  sufferings  of  our  fellow  creatures,  we  now 
seek  them  out,  and  bring  to  light  an  alarming  number  of 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  ^3 

cases  of  degradation  and  suffering.  I  have  no  doubt  it 
existed  in  the  same  degree  ten  years  ago.  Do  you 
imagine  that  the  abject  misery  of  thousands  of  poor  people 
in  London  is  any  worse  than  it  was  before  Dickens  wrote 
of  it  and  opened  its  gaping  squalor  to  the  world  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Mather,"  said  her  uncle,  not  ill-pleased,  "allow 
me  to  protest  against  any  personalities  in  a  discussion. 
It  is  extremely  poor  taste.  You  will  not  for  an  instant 
hear  me  advocate  any  neglect  of  this  great  problem 
which  is  forcing  its  ugly  form  into  view  with  startling 
prominence  in  the  present  day.  My  idea  simply  is  that 
instead  of  throttling  the  monster  of  shameless  pauperism, 
we  are  now  fostering  it  with  a  system  -of  coddling,  until  it 
will  gain  such  strength  that  it  will  turn  and  rend  us.  Now, 
braving  your  wrath  that  any  one  should  be  so  cruelly  cal- 
culating, I  must  tell  you  that  Judge  Green  said  that  he 
figured  that  with  the  money  that  has  actually  been  given 
to  charity,  during  these  years,  he  could  have  boarded 
every  deserving  pauper  at  the  Alden  House,  and  given 
them  rides  in  carriages  every  day." 

Miss  St.  John  laughed  delightedly. 

"  Dude,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  somewhat  annoyed  at  this 
presentation  of  a  conclusion  against  a  work  in  which  she 
was  much  interested,  "  I  believe  that  your  heart  is  lost  in 
your  pursuit  of  art,  which  is  cold  and  unsympathetic.  It 
demands  the  admiration  of  the  world,  and  gives  nothing 
but  the  privilege  of  gazing  upon  its  perfections  in 
return.  It  is  a  cold,  unresponsive  mirror,  and  tends  to 
chill  its  votaries  to  human  joy  or  woe,  except  as  they  are 
interested  to  reproduce  it.  Who  was  it — Giotto  ? — that 


!^4  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

tortured  a  poor  old  man  to  death  so  that  he  might  paint 
his  dying  agonies  ?  " 

To  this  feminine  retort  Miss  St.  John  answered, 
smiling,  "  It  was  Parrhasius,  dear.  But,  Julie,  do  not  bring 
art  into  disfavor,  because  I  smiled  at  an  amusing  state- 
ment, and  because  Parrhasius  was  cruel." 

The  perfect  equanimity  with  which  the  artist  regarded 
her  friend's  rather  illogical  retort  in  favor  of  her  charitable 
schemes,  no  less  than  the  spirited  rejoinders  of  the  warm- 
hearted little  chaperone  of  the  visiting  party,  was  a  great 
diversion  to  Mr.  Stearns.  He  had  not  been  so  entertained 
for  a  long  time.  He  softly  rubbed  his  hands  together  and 
waited  for  the  little  woman  to  finish. 

"And,  uncle,"  she  flashed,  turning  upon  him,  "I  must 
beg  you  and  the  astute  lawyers  who  thus  summarily  closed 
a  question  which  few  feel  competent  to  answer,  to  con- 
sider, that  mere  physical  relief  is  only  one  of  the  objects 
of  an  enlightened  charity.  It  costs  more  to  send  a  boy  to 
school  than  it  does  to  give  him  a  dinner,  and  the  educa- 
tional schemes  now  in  practical  working  in  sewing,  train- 
ing, and  cooking  schools,  in  mothers'  meetings  and  read- 
ing-rooms, as  well  as  in  constant  advice  and  counsel,  are 
far  more  expensive  in  time  and  money  than  an  occasional 
turkey  or  a  basket  of  cold  pieces." 

"My  dear  niece,"  said  her  uncle,  with  affectionate  re- 
gard, "I  am  sure  that  the  work  that  you  and  others  do  in 
this  field  is  a  power  for  good  to  your  souls.  The  admira- 
tion I  feel  for  a  generous,  warm-hearted  little  woman  who 
forgets  her  own  fatigue  for  the  sake  of  the  Lord's  unfor- 
tunates, makes  me  feel  that  I  would  not  have  the  work 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  j^e 

given  up,  or  differently  managed ;  but,"  and  he  smiled  in 
a  teasing  way,  "  is  it  fair  to  the  paupers  ?  If  it  is  a  fact 
that  they  increase  under  this  petting,  which  is  such  a  rare 
discipline  to  you,  should  you  not  magnanimously  refrain 
from  it,  and  let  some  clear-headed,  hard-fisted,  Christian 
man  take  the  management  of  your  half-dozen  societies  con- 
solidated into  one,  and  care  gently  for  the  innocent  and 
disabled,  while  dealing  decisively  with  laziness  and 
crime  ? " 

Miss  St.  John  leaned  eagerly  forward  to  catch  Mrs. 
Mather's  reply  to  a  proposition  which  instantly  offended 
her  as  a  champion  of  the  dignity  and  executive  powers  of 
her  sex. 

Mrs.  Mather  smiled  across  the  table  at  her  friend,  and 
then  turned  again  to  the  old  man,  who  sat  intensely  enjoy- 
ing the  discussion  he  had  brought  about  by  a  few  remarks 
calculated  to  stir  up  the  ire  of  these  wide-awake  ladies. 

"To  your  idea  of  consolidation,"  answered  Mrs.  Mather, 
"  I  say  yes.  A  thousand  times,  yes.  To  your  declaration 
that  charitable  societies  tend  to  foster  laziness  and  crimi- 
nal neglect  of  opportunities  for  self-help,  by  their  proffered 
aid,  I  say,  its  truth  has  yet  to  be  proven.  To  your  last 
proposition  for  a  masculine  manager  of  all  charities,  imply- 
ing that  women  are  actuated  rather  by  their  quick  sympa- 
thies than  by  good  judgment,  I  say,  that  in  common 
with  many  other  men,  you  are  condemning  our  methods 
without  that  understanding  of  them  which  would  qualify 
you  to  an  unbiased  conclusion.  You  jump  at  once 
to  the  conclusion  that,  being  women,  we  have  not 
progressed  with  the  rest  of  the  world  beyond  the  old 


r^5  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

and  injudicious  practice  of  giving  money  or  provisions  to 
any  worthless  individual  who  makes  a  demand  for  it.  I 
wish  to  call  your  attention  to  the  fact,  that  one  of  our 
women,  who  is  a  prominent  dispenser  of  funds  trusted  to 
her  for  the  purpose,  was  among  the  first  in  the  country  to- 
tKink  out  the  problem  for  herself  and  advocate  the  lending 
of  assistance  with  the  direct  purpose  of  inducing  indigent 
ones  to  help  themselves.  She  has  evei>  made  it  a  point 
not  to  give  anything  to  those  who  are  able  to  work  for  it. 
She  works  with  this  idea  constantly  in  view.  Earnestly 
urging  upon  her  backers  the  folly  of  indiscriminate  charity, 
as  doing  more  harm  than  good,  she  endeavors  to  open  the 
chances  for  discouraged  humanity.  If  she  could  bring  all 
of  the  society  which  supports  her  to  her  own  practical  views 
there  would  be  less  heard  about  'fuss  and  feathers,'  less  gush 
and  fashionable  display,  and  less  wide-spread  mischievous 
effects  from  a  palpable  loss  of  the  main  idea,  under  a  mass 
of  circumlocution  and  absurd  mismanagement  But,  taking 
the  running  of  any  of  these  societies,  which  are  managed 
by  ladies,  I  am  confident  they  will  compare  favorably  with 
any  which  are  under  the  charge  of  'hard-fisted  men.'  " 

Miss  St.  John  clapped  her  hands  softly.  "  Why,  Julie 
Mather,  do  you  know  that  you  are  almost  advocating 
woman's  rights  ?  I  am  surprised  at  you."  As  indeed  she 
was. 

Julie  threw  her  a  little  smile,  and  continued,  "  Well,  I 
let  all  these  knotty  points  go,  unless  I  am  disturbed  by 
some  obstinate  old  uncle,  whom  it  is  rrecessary  to  set  right. 
I  am  convinced  that  the  educational  schemes  are  of  deep- 
est importance.  There  is  certainly  no  danger  of  making 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  lny 

children  too  kind  or  polite.  No  fear  that  in  teaching  them 
to  do  honast  work,  they  can  be  injured.  This  work  is 
large  enough  to  occupy  many  efficient  helpers.  When 
you  commence  with  a  child  and  make  him  clean,  you  have 
taken  the  first  step  towards  leading  him  out  of  pauperism. 
When  you  teach  them  to  read,  to  use  their  brains  and 
hands,  you  have  given  them  that  which  no  drunken  father 
can  take  away.  When  you  have  convinced  a  poor  boy  or 
girl  that  it  is  brighter,  happier,  better  to  be  moral,  you 
have  cured  crime,  or  rather  prevented  it.  It  is  enough  for 
me,"  she  said,  kindling,  "to  see  the  children  coming  out 
of  filth  and  ignorance  under  our  ministrations.  This  work 
takes  air  my  leisure  time.  Let  those  who  are  disposed 
quarrel  over  office-holding,  or  pine  for  recognition  by  the 
figureheads  of  societies.  Uncle,  there  are  some  things 
not  reducible  to  statistics." 

"  Bravo,  little  woman !  I  am  proud  to  acknowledge 
that  you  have  a  wider  comprehension  of  the  subject  than 
I  had  given  you  tender-hearted  women  credit  for.  What 
we  need  everywhere  is  a  clearer  understanding  of  the 
principles  of  this  subject.  We  are  not  justified  in  closing 
our  eyes  to  the  needs  of  our  fellows,  but  he  or  she  that 
brings  into  exercise  an  intelligent  caution  against  inju- 
rious alms-giving  is  a  veritable  philanthropist,  in  having 
worked  towards  the  permanently  beneficent  ends.  But," 
he  said,  returning  to  his  first  idea,  "an  awful  sight  of 
money  goes  somewhere,  with  no  very  encouraging  results. 
However,  if  they  enjoy  it  (I  mean  the  ladies;  of  course 
their  pensioners  do),  I  am  not  sure  that  it  does  any 
harm  ! " 

w.  &  TV. — 12 


!78  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  Uncle,  you  are  incorrigible  !  We  get  you  all  con- 
vinced, and  then  you  fly  back  to  your  original  statement. 
That  is  supposed  to  be  exclusively  a  woman's  prerogative," 
answered  his  niece,  regarding  him  somewhat  reproach- 
fully. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  artist,  "if  you  could  hear  our  man- 
agers talk  you  would  not  dare  to  offer  such  faint  praise. 
Why,  they  consider  they  are  bringing  about  the  millen- 
nium." 

"Well,  I  suppose  they  see  results  that  others  cannot. 
It's  probably  all  right,  if  they  like  it." 

The  old  man  did  not  come  down  very  gracefully  from 
his  high  ground,  but  Mrs.  Mather  realized  that  she  had 
made  some  effect  upon  his  mind  in  favor  of  her  favor- 
ite branches  of  charitable  work,  and  said  no  more. 

"  Certainly  these  societies  work  for  good.  Whether  they 
achieve  the  greatest  possibilities,  or  not,  it  is  hard  to  say. 
And,"  she  pursued,  shaking  her  head  at  him,  "while  I 
cannot  help  seeing  the  ludicrous  side  of  many  of  their 
procedures,  I  decidedly  object  to  your  insinuation  that 
they  make  mistakes  because  they  are  women.  Men  have 
yet  to  be  proven  infallible,  and  I  think  all  organizations, 
whether  masculine,  feminine,  political,  social,  or  charitable, 
have  such  features,  and  such  is  life." 

"There  now,  it  is  all  settled,"  said  Mahala,  from  the 
lounge.  She  now  arose  and  clasping  her  hand  behind  her 
head,  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  Mrs.  Mather  with 
quizzical  affection.  "There's  no  use  trying  to  read  here," 
she  said,  as  she  came  and  placed  her  hands  beside  her 
friend's  face  as  she  stood  behind  her  chair,  "your  conver- 
sation is  so  much  more  interesting  than —  " 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  IJQ 

Here  the  door-bell  rang  vigorously,  and  Mr.  Stearns 
proceeded  to  the  door.  Mahala  flew  back  to  the  lounge  in 
the  corner,  and  Miss  St.  John  sat  unwinding  a  line  of 
scarlet  zephyr,  while  Mrs.  Mather  looked  expectantly 
towards  the  door. 

"Ah!  Good  evening,  sir,  good  evening,"  the  voice  of 
Mr.  Stearns  was  heard  to  say.  "  Madam,  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  you.  Come  right  into  the  sitting-room.  I  must 
introduce  to  you  my  young  ladies,"  he  said,  proudly. 

"Thank  you,"  rejoined  a  pleasant  voice,  "it  was  to  see 
them  that  we  called  this  evening." 

Mr.  Stearns  came  into  the  room  and  stood  on  one  side  to 
allow  a  beautiful  lady  with  soft  gray  hair  to  enter. 

"Mrs.  Farnham,  this  is  Mrs.  Mather,  my  niece,"  and 
Miss  St.  John  and  Miss  Wright  were  in  turn  presented  to 
the  graceful  lady,  who  wore  a  dress  of  heavy  satin,  an 
India  shawl  of  exquisite  fineness,  and  an  unmistakably 
aristocratic  bonnet  with  rich  plumes. 

Mrs.  Mather's  quick  eye  took  this  all  in  at  a  glance,  and 
she  was  not  surprised  to  see  the  tall  figure  and  strong  face 
of  Mr.  Philip  Farnham,  now  in  exceptionally  neat  and 
elegant  attire,  following  the  lovely  old  lady  into  the  room. 

She  quickly  -went  to  greet  him  in  her  own  cordial  man- 
ner, and  while  expressing  her  pleasure  at  meeting  him 
again,  she  heard  Mrs.  Farnham  saying  :  "  I  made  haste 
to  call  upon  you,  ladies,  and  say  how  much  I  regret  your 
unpleasant  encounter  with  Patrick  Finnegan  in  our  woods. 
I  really  hope  the  fright  has  not  made  you  ill,  nor  dis- 
heartened you  from  pursuing  your  very  interesting  jour- 
ney, of  which  I  have  heard." 


jgo  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  Miss  St.  John,  "only  Miss  Prescott 
has  felt  the  shock  somewhat,  and  as  her  ankle  is  still  a  lit- 
tle lame  from  a  slight  sprain,  she  has  gone  to  bed,  She 
will  be  very  sorry  not  to  meet  you." 

"And  I  am  very  sorry  not  to  see  her,"  the  lady 
graciously  replied.  "  Miss  St.  John,"  she  said,  suddenly, 
"  I  am  sure  that  I  have  heard  of  you  before,  through  my 
friend,  Mrs.  Trowbridge.  Is  she  not  also  a  friend  of 
yours  ?  " 

"Why,  yes,  indeed,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  with  great 
enthusiasm,  and  their  conversation  was  at  once  launched 
upon  a  sea  of  pleasant  reminiscences  and  flowing  inter- 
change of  ideas. 

Mahala,  who  had  seen  the  entrance  of  Philip  Farnham 
with  dismay,  had  sunk  again  into  the  comfortable  lounge. 
There  she  sat,  fingering  the  long  ends  of  blue  satin  bow 
at  her  neck,  with  eyes  cast  down  and  toes  demurely 
crossed.  She  made  an  extremely  pretty  picture,  but,  as, 
Mrs.  Mather  well  knew,  was  feeling  terribly  embarrassed 
and  uncomfortable.  Seeing  that  Mr.  Farnham  had  cast 
many  glances  towards  that  corner,  and  by  several  remarks 
thrown  in  Mahala's  direction  (which,  however,  elicited  na 
reply  from  her)  had  shown  a  desire  to  draw  out  the  shy 
girl,  Mrs.  Mather  turned  her  conversation  to  her  uncle  for 
a  moment. 

Then  Philip  rose  and  crossed  the  room,  and  taking  a 
seat  on  the  lounge  beside  her,  in  the  easiest  manner  pos- 
sible commenced  a  talk  of  polite  nothings  and  agreeable 
remarks  upon  things  in  general,  so  that  before  long  Mahala 
had  somewhat  forgotten  her  unnatural  reticence  and  was. 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  l^l 

telling  him  about  her  brother's  furore  for  "specimens." 
She  descanted  wittily  upon  the  annoyance  of  the  family 
when  some  of  the  beetles  refused  to  die  under  chlorofoim, 
and  went  crawling  about  the  house  with  long  pins  through 
their  horny  bodies.  "  But  that  was  before  he  knew  any- 
thing about  cyanide  of  potash,"  she  continued,  raising  the 
long  lashes  as  she  gave  him  an  artless  glance  and  rolled 
the  blue  ribbon  over  her  taper  forefingers.  "Now,  he  just 
puts  them  into  a  wide-nosed  bottle  with  this  poison  in  the 
bottom,  and  they  crawl  about  perfectly  happy  for  a  while, 
until  the  first  thing  they  know  they  are  dead." 

Philip  laughed,  and  told  her  of  some  gorgeous  beetles 
he  had  brought  from  the  South,  and  said  he  would  like  to 
send  them  to  her  brother,  feeling  sure  that  so  enthusiastic 
a  naturalist  as  she  described  him  to  be  would  take  far 
better  care  of  them  than  he  might  if  he  kept  them  in  his 
possession.  Mahala  could  not  refuse  such  an  acquisition 
for  Joe,  and  thanked  him  prettily  for  her  brother. 

Soon,  again,  Julie  caught  fragments  of  their  chat.  Mr. 
Farnham,  who  evidently  considered  the  frank  and  unas- 
suming style  of  the  sprightly  girl  very  charming,  was  get- 
ting personal.  "I  am  sure,  Miss  Wright,"  said  he,  "tha,t  I 
heard  your  friends  call  you  Mike.  How  did  you  come  by 
such  a  cognomen  ? " 

Mahala  then  told  him  how  "the  boys"  disliked  her  old- 
fashioned  name,  and  said  she  was  such  a  good  fellow  that 
she  should  have  a  boy's  name.  So,  as  Mike  was  Frank's 
name  for  every  one,  and  he  did  not  know  what  else  to  call 
her,  she  was  dubbed  by  his  favorite  appellation. 

"  I  feel  that  it  is  hardly  appropriate,  and  not  very  attract- 


jg2  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

ive,"  she  said,  opening  and  shutting  her  book  with  a 
pensive  air,  "but  if  the  boys  like  it,  that  is  enough,"  and 
she  looked  at  her  listener*  with  her  eyebrows  raised,  while 
she  showed  the  tips  of  her  white  teeth. 

"Yes,  indeed.  So  it  is,  Miss  Wright,"  assented  the 
young  man,  with  a  warmth  which  seemed  a  little  in  excess 
considering  the  triviality  of  the  subject.  "  Your  devotion 
to  the  boys  must  be  very  pleasant  to  them;  and,  you 
know,  all  names  are  not  appropriate." 

"No,"  she  said,  with  a  quick  impulse,  and  a  wicked 
smile,  "  I  think  yours  should  be  Rufus,"  and  then,  fright- 
ened at  her  temerity,  she  colored  a  little  and  looked  away, 
and  then  at  him  askance  to  see  the  effect  of  her  saucy 
words. 

"Certainly,  I  see, — 'The  Red,'  "  answered  the  gentle- 
man, passing  his  hand  over  his  crisp  hair  which  was  clip- 
ped rather  closely  to  his  fine  head,  not  in  the  least  dis- 
turbed. Then  he  said  slowly,  and  looking  intently  at  her 
with  a  meaning  smile,  "  And  when  I  can  recall  a  name  for 
a  fire-hang-bircl,  I  will  suggest  it  to  you.  How  would 
Oriola  suit  you  ? " 

Mahala  was  crushed. '  She  threw  him  one  piteous  glance, 
in  which  shame,  conviction,  and  dread  were  mingled. 
The  worst  had  happened — she  was  disgraced,  ridiculed. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Farnham,"  she  cried,  crimson  with  mortifica- 
tion, "were  you — did  you — " 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  laughing  at  her  mercilessly,  "I 
was,  and  I  did." 

"Oh,"  she  exclaimed,  in  low  but  indignant  tones,  "how- 
could  you  do  such  a  thing  ?  How  came  you  to  be  away 


THE  FARNHAMS  CALL  UPON  THE  TOURISTS.  jg^ 

up  in  Haddam,  anyway  ?  I  think  it  was  horrid  in  you  !  " 
and  she  turned  away  her  coquettish  head  and  bit  her  lips. 

Philip  seeing  her  unfeigned  distress,  hastened  to  say 
most  earnestly,  "Miss  Wright,  I  assure  you  there  was  no 
intent  on  my  part  to  distress  any  one,  when  I  went  up  the 
river  that  morning  hunting.  Hearing  cries  as  of  some 
one  in  need  of  help,  I  ran  through  the  woods  and  jumped 
the  fence,  to  see  a  young  lady  in  a  rather  unhappy  situa- 
tion." He  suppressed  a  smile  in  a  most  exasperating 
manner.  "  But  as  your  friends  arrived  just  at  that 
moment,  and  you  dropped  from  the  birch,  I  jumped  back 
again,  so  as  not  to  embarrass  you,  when  I  could  be  of  no 
assistance.  I  could  see  from  the  cover  of  the  woods  that 
no  one  was  seriously  hurt,  so  I  went  on  my  way." 

Mahala  was  twisting  her  fingers  and  winking  very  fast. 

"Am  I  to  blame  for  this,  Miss  Wright?"  asked  Philip, 
leaning  towards  her  kindly. 

"  No ;  you  were  only  doing  the  kind  and  chivalrous 
thing,"  she  answered  bravely,  at  last,  "but  I — I  am  being 
justly  punished  for  my  hideous  rudeness." 

"  I  protest  that  it  struck  me  as  the  most  natural  and 
unavoidable  accident  in  the  world,"  declared  Philip. 
Mahala  smiled  in  spite  of  her  vexation. 

"  Do  you  forgive  me,  then,  for  being  near?  It  was  im- 
possible that  I  should  have  foreseen  such  a  contre  temps. 
Please  tell  me  that  you  will  not  dislike  me  for  it." 

"Come,  Philip,"  said  the  gentle  voice  of  his  mother, 
"we  are  making  a  shockingly  unfashionable  call;  it  is 
time  to  go.  My  dear,"  she  said  to  Mahala,  as  she  took 
her  hand,  "  I  wish  to  know  you  better,  and  also  to  see  you 


jg;  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

on  your  tricycles,  so  I  have  invited  your  friends  to  come 
and  dine  with  us  at  four  to-morrow  afternoon.  I  hope 
you  will  certainly  come.  Mrs.  Mather  thinks  that  Miss 
Prescott  will  be  hardly  able  to  use  her  wheels,  so  I  shall 
send  the  carriage  for  her." 

An  eloquent  glance  from  the  red-brown  eyes  of  Philip 
(burnt  sienna,  Miss  St.  John  called  them)  seconded  this 
kind  invitation  so  persuasively  that  Mahala  stammered 
her  thanks  and  professed  herself  under  the  leading  of  her 
aunt  and  chaperone,  and  Mr.  Farnham  and  his  mother 
took  their  leave. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


*  T  THOUGHT  we  were  going  on  our  journey  to-day," 

A  said  Mahala  the  next  morning,  and  as  she  had  com- 
pleted her  toilet  she  sat  down  sideways  upon  a  chair,  and 
resting  her  arm  upon  its  back,  clasped  her  hands  and 
pouted  a  little. 

Miss  St.  John,  who  was  fastening  her  collar  at  the  glass, 
turned  upon  her  with  considerable  asperity. 

"Mahala  Wright,"  she  said,  "you  are  developing  an 
amount  of  perversity  of  late  which  is  astonishing.  Ordi- 
narily, you  would  be  charmed  to  visit  such  an  old  manse  as 
Mr.  Stearns  tells  us  the  Farnham  house  is,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  pleasure  of  knowing  such  delightful  people.  Really, 
you  are  trying  to  one's  disposition." 

"  Well,  well,  auntie,  I  do  not  mean  to  vex  you,  and  cer- 
tainly have  no  objections  to  going  to  Mrs.  Farnham's  if 
you  all  wish  it.  Don't  be  angry,  dear,  I  only  —  " 

"  She  only  put  in  her  disclaimer,  to  be  consistent," 
lightly  added  Mrs.  Mather,  who  had  just  come  into  the 
room. 

"  Consistent  !  —  in  what  ?  "  demanded  Mahala,  turning 

(i8S) 


1 86 


WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 


swiftly  upon  her  friend ;  but  her  eyes,  which  she  tried  to 
make  unconscious,  fell  beneath  the  quizzical  gaze  of  that 
lady,  who  merely  said,  "Oh,  nothing." 

"Well,  I  think  you  are  all  getting  enigmatical,"  sniffed 
Miss  St.  John,  "and  I  move  that  we  go  down  to  break- 
fast." 


At  precisely  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  carriage, 
drawn  by  a  pair  of  fat  bay  horses,  driven  by  black  Robert, 
who  had  grown  gray  in  the  Farnhams'  service,  arrived  at 
Mr.  Stearns's  door  to  convey  Margery  and  himself  to  Squire 
Farnham's  house. 


DINNER  AT   THE  FARNHAMS.  jg^ 

The  old  gentleman  protested  that  he  could  carry  Mar- 
gery over  in  his  buggy,  but  Mrs.  Farnham  had  insisted 
that  the  horses  needed  exercise,  and  it  would  please  Rob- 
ert so  much  to  drive  a  beautiful  young  lady  in  his  carriage 
once  more ;  so  he  reluctantly  consented  to  be  waited  upon. 
The  trio,  on  tricycles,  followed  the  carriage,  and  soon  the 
party  arrived  at  the  Farnhams'  place,  where  Phflip  stood 
on  the  stone  steps  at  the  entrance  to  greet  them.  He 
carefully  assisted  Margery  up  the  flight  to  the  door,  where 
she  was  met  and  kissed  on  her  presentation  to  the  sweet 
mother.  Then  he  turned  again  to  welcome  the  gray-suited 
ladies,  who  now  came  smoothly  up  the  circular  driveway. 
Mrs.  Farnham,  having  thrown  a  light  shawl  over  her  head, 
now  came  briskly  out  of  the  house. 

"Oh,  here  you  are  at  last,  my  dears,"  she  cried.  "Don't 
alight  !  I. do  want  to  see  those  machines  work.  Are  you 
too  tired  to  run  around  the  circle  just  once  for  me  ?  Oh, 
how  perfectly  fascinating  that  must  be !"  she  said  to  Philip, 
as  they  ran  so  rapidly  and  noiselessly  over  the  smooth 
drive.  "  It  is  only  when  I  see  the  freedom  and  out-of-door 
sports  of  young  girls  in  this  age,  that  I  wish  I  had  been 
born  fifty  years  later." 

"Ah,  Mrs.  Farnham,"  said  Julie,  as  she  stepped  from  her 
wheels,  "  one  must  feel,  in  knowing  you,  that  there  are 
compensations  in  having  been  brought  up  in  the  old 
school,  though  we  do  enjoy  our  strength  and  the  robust 
health  which  this  exercise  in  pure  air  brings  us." 

"  Miss  St.  John,"  said  their  hostess,  as  she  led  her  into 
the  house,  "how  independent  you  are  enabled  to  be  of 
cars  and  carriages,  on  your  sketching  tours,  by  your  tri- 
cycle !  " 


jgg  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  artist,  "it  is  a  great  convenience 
to  me.  In  fact,  I  wonder  how  I  ever  got  along  without  it." 

"  Miss  Wright,"  said  Philip,  with  a  vivid  color  in  his 
"bronzed  cheek,  as  he  took  her  neatly-gloved  hand,  "  I  am 
very  glad  to  welcome  you  to  my  home.  You  have  done 
us  all  a  great  kindness  in  coming.  My  father,  who  is  quite 
feeble,  rfas  been  anxiously  waiting  your  arrival." 

Mahala  looked  up,  following  his  slight  gesture  in  the 
direction  of  one  of  the  windows,  and  saw  an  old  man 
watching  them  from  the  library,  into  which  they  were 
soon  shown. 

A  wood  fire  was  burning  in  the  capacious  chimney. 
Book-cases  lined  the  walls,  and  contained  a  valuable  law 
library,  as  well  as  standard  works  in  theology,  science, 
philosophy,  and  fiction.  The  ancient,  hard-wood  wainscot- 
ing and  mantel  had  been  preserved.  A  few  choice  pic- 
tures and  some  pieces  of  bric-a-brac  filled  various  niches 
and  lightened  the  dark  walls.  An  air  of  cultivation  and 
luxury  pervaded  the  room. 

Squire  Farnham  turned  from  his  conversation  with  Mrt 
Stearns  to  receive  the  visitors  as  they  entered,  and  ex- 
pressed his  pleasure  at  their  visit  and  great  admiration  of 
their  tricycle  costumes. 

"We  had  to  wear  them,  sir,"  apologized  Mrs.  Mather, 
"as  Mrs.  Farnham  particularly  requested  to  see  us  in 
traveling  garb." 

"Why,  certainly,"  said  the  gratified  squire,  beaming 
upon  one  and  another,  "  I  should  have  been  much  chag- 
rined to  miss  seeing  these  unique  dresses.  You  look  like 
female  hussars,  with  your  buttons  and  braid.  Come  here, 


DINNER  AT   THE  FARNHAMS.  lgy 

my  dear,"  said  the  old  gentleman  to  Mahala,  "you  are  like 
a  peach ;  so  sweet  and  fresh  !  Don't  mind  an  old  man's 
compliment,"  for  Mahala  blushed  as  he  took  her  hand,  "  I 
am  sure  you  are  willing  to  entertain  me  for  a  little  while." 

"Oh,  yes,  sir,"  answered  the  kind  little  maid,  "I  am 
very  fond  of  elderly  people.  It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me. 
Some  of  the  happiest  hours  of  my  life  have  been  spent  at 
my  grandfather's  knee.  We  lost  him  only  a  year  ago,"  she 
continued,  softly. 

"Young  people  do  not  always  count  it  a  loss  when  old 
ones  are  removed.  But  go  now,  Miss  Wright,  with  Philip 
and  mother,  who  are  going  to  show  your  friends  some  of  our 
antiquities.  They  are  not  much,  but  Philip  values  them 
very  highly,  since  such  things  have  become  fashionable." 

"Father,"  said  Philip,  remonstrating,  "you  know  I 
always  prized  family  relics,  and  I  repudiate  the  charge  of 
following  a  popular  craze." 

In  the  square  hall  near  a  window  which  was  draped  with 
a  sash-curtain  stood  a  high  and  massive  clock. 

"This,"  said  Philip,  "is  one  of  the  first  of  Harrison's 
gridiron  pendulum-clocks.  It  is  number  five,  I  believe, 
and  therefore  must  have  been  made  soon  after  1726.  It 
was  brought  to  New  York  by  an  ancestor  of  my  mother's, 
a  Philip  Lindsay,  who  was  a  younger  son  of  an  English 
earl." 

"Never  mind  the  genealogy,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Farn- 
ham,  smiling. 

"  This  clock  kept  perfect  time,"  the  young  man  contin- 
ued, "until  about  ten  years  ago,  when  some  wheel  was 
worn  out  and  the  old  time-piece  was  still.  But,  within  a 


jgO  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

few  weeks,  I  have  had  an  expert  in  horology  examine  it, 
and  by  the  substitution  of  one  new  cog  it  is  now  running 
perfectly  once  more." 

The  case  was  of  the  richest  mahogany,  which  was  beau- 
tifully carved  in  symbolical  and  grotesque  figures. 

"  I  am  proud  of  it,"  acknowledged  the  young  man, 
«  and —  " 

Just  then  the  silvery  cadence  as  of  tinkling  bells  struck 
quickly  upon  the  ear. 

"Ten,  eleven,  twelve,  thirteen,  fourteen, — "  Mahala 
counted,  and  turned  in  amazement  to  Mrs.  Farnham,  who 
was  laughing  with  her  son  to  see  the  surprised  looks  of 
their  visitors  as  the  bell  struck  on  to  forty -four.  "  That  is 
only  our  Anne  Boleyn,"  said  she,  as  all  joined  in  the 
laugh. 

"Well,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  looking  around  the  hall, 
"  if  the  Queen  reiterated  her  remarks  as  many  times  as 
that  I  do  not  wonder  that  Henry  cut  her  head  off.  He 
probably  did  it  in  self-defense." 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Farnham,  leading  the  way  to  the 
first  landing  of  the  oaken  staircase.  "  It  is  one  of  Tomp- 
kin's  clocks,  and  was  made  in  the  seventeenth  century. 
It  is  a  fac-simile  of  one  which  was  presented  to  poor  Anne 
Boleyn  by  Henry  the  Eighth.  They  seem  to  have  had  an 
unaccountable  penchant  at  that  period  for  striking  clocks. 
This  one  formerly  struck  forty-four  at  twelve  o'clock,  and 
between  twelve  and  one  o'clock  no  less  than  one  hundred 
and  thirteen  times.  It  not  only  struck  the  quarter  hours 
on  eight  bells  but  also  the  hour,  after  each  quarter.  How- 
ever, the  mechanism  is  long  ago  worn  out  and  we  seldom 


DINNER  AT   THE  FARNHAMS.  jgj 

wind  it.  I  did  so,  in  an  idle  moment  yesterday,  and  your 
presence  seems  to  have  given  it  new  life." 

It  had  been  presented  to  Squire  Farnham  in  England  as 
the  souvenir  of  a  dear  friend,  some  twenty-five  years  be- 
fore, and  was  of  satin-wood  inlaid  with  brass  filigree-work 
in  gothic  form,  and  surmounted  by  a  lion  rampant  on  a 
shield. 

The  delighted  girls  were  shown  a  great-grandmother's 
wedding-set  of  china,  with  her  monogram  in  gilt  upon  each 
piece.  A  massive  silver  salver,  wrought  into  pictures  of 
the  chase,  in  matchless  repoussS  work,  upon  which  the 
valiant  henchman  had  proudly  borne  the  boar's  head  into 
the  feudal  dining-room  of  a  Farnham  great,  great,  great, 
great,  great  grandsire. 

In  a  case  of  inlaid  wood,  which  Philip  took  from  a 
drawer  in  the  desk,  was  a  sort  of  picture-book  of  some 
forty  or  fifty  pages. 

"This  book,"  said  he,  "was  picked  up  by  my  father,  at 
an  old  book-stall  in  Wirtemburg,  twenty-five  years  ago. 
While  glancing  over  the  stock  of  aged  and  yellow  manu- 
scripts and  folios,  as  he  often  did,  being  something  of  a 
biblio-maniac,  he  was  thrilled  with  joy  and  surprise  to  rec- 
ognize in  it  a  genuine  and  unmistakable  Biblia  Pau- 
ptmm" 

Here,  Mahala,  who  had  been  not  a  little  discomfited  at 
her  own  ignorance  of  things  which  seemed  so  familiar  to 
these  Farnhams,  said  with  a  little  chagrin  in  her  tones : 
"  But,  Mr.  Farnham,  common  people  do  not  even  know 
what  a.  Biblia  Pauperum  is,"  and  she  made  a  comical  little 
mouth  at  the  name.  "  Of  course  the  words  seem  to  imply 


IC;2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

'poor  mans  Bible/  but  I  never  heard  of  such  a  one  as 
this."  She  saw  cuts  in  the  quaint  style  of  the  middle 
ages,  giving  the  leading  events  of  Christ's  saving  work. 

"It  is  not  at  all  strange  that  you  are  not  acquainted 
with  this  book,"  said  Philip,  smiling,  and  carefully  turning 
the  leaves,  "as  it  was  used  as  a  text-book  before  the 
Reformation,  by  monks,  in  preaching,  and  took  the  place 
of  the  more  expensive  and  unattainable  Bible  among  the 
poor  laity.  As  these  lower  orders  of  the  clergy  took  the 
title  of  Paupers  Christi,  '  Christ's  poor,'  the  book  was  so 
called.  It  is  in  Latin,  you  see."  As  he  replaced  the  book 
in  its  case,  he  said  :  "  I  am  sure  you  must  be  tired  with 
musty  old  relics,  now,  and  I  hope  I  have  not  bored  you 
too  long  with  my  showman's  harangue.  How  would  you 
like  to  go  out  and  see  the  cattle,  and  horses,  and  dogs  ? " 

"  Oh,  one  could  never  tire  of  this  beautiful  old  house," 
said  Mrs.  Mather,  enthusiastically  looking  around.  "  It  is 
ancient  enough  to  be  modern !  How  fortunate  for  its 
possessors." 

"Oh,  yes,"  joyfully  assented  Mahala  to  their  entertain- 
er's proposition.  "  Do  let  us  see  the  stables.  I  can 
always  make  friends  with  animals." 

"  Do  you  have  any  particular  difficulty  in  that  respect 
with  human  beings  ? "  said  Philip,  giving  her  a  humorous 
glance,  which  Mahala  answered  with  a  bright  flash  from 
her  eyes. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  "  we  should  enjoy  it 
much  to  see  the  horses.  We  will  get  our  hats  and — " 

"Mr.  Farnham,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  coming  out  of  the 
library,  where  she  had  been  gloating  over  some  art  maga- 


DINNER  AT  THE  FARNHAMS.  ^ 

zines,  "Your  father  is  very  anxious  to  hear  some  music 
before  dinner,  and  your  mother  says  if  you  will  tune  your 
violin  she  will  soon  be  here  to  play  the  accompaniment. 
After  which,  some  of  us  will  play,"  she  continued,  as  she 
saw  a  slight  intention  to  demur  upon  his  face. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  resignedly,  "  so  be  it,  if  it  is  my 
father's  wish.  Mr.  Stearns,"  he  said,  looking  in  at  the 
library-door,  "if  you  will  give  father  your  arm  into  the 
drawing-room,  I  will  do  my  twisting  and  scratching  as 
soon  as  may  be." 

While  the  old  man  and  his  friend  and  the  ladies  were 
coming  into  the  room,  the  amateur  violinist  began  the 
excruciating  process  which  always  precedes  string  playing. 

"  Miss  Wright,"  said  he,  "  will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
strike  A,  on  the  piano  ?  Now — now — thank  you.  That 
will  do,  I  think." 

He  did  not  .make  a  long  affair  of  it,  and  when  his  mother 
came  smiling  into  the  room  from  a  secret  consultation 
with  old  Viney  in  the  kitchen,  and  sat  down  to  the  piano, 
he  began  to  play.  His  bowing  was  easy  and  graceful,  his 
inflections  in  thorough  good  taste,  and  the  tones  which  he 
brought  from  his  cherished  Straduarius  were  round  and 
full. 

After  playing  several  sweet  selections  from  Beethoven, 
a  Larghetto  from  the  Second  Symphony,  and  an  Adagio 
from  the  Fifth  Sonata,  Philip  set  upon  the  rack  the  "Lost 
Chord.." 

"  It  is  by  Sullivan,  you  know,"  he  said,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Mather,  "not  strictlv  a  violin  piece,  but  one  of  my  favor- 
ites. I  do  not  attempt  concert  pieces,  realizing  that 
w.  &  w.— 13 


TQ4  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

they  are  beyond  my  power.  I  think  it  is  better  to  play 
such  things  as  these  well,  than  to  haggle  at  music  which 
would  tax  the  skill  of  Wilhelmj ; "  and  as  the  strong  pure 
harmony  of  the  composition  rose  and  fell,  finely  modulated, 
and  carefully  finished,  Miss  St.  John  nodded  to  Margery. 
"Always  in  good  taste,"  she  murmured. 

The  young  lady,  scarcely  knowing  whether  the  ambigu- 
ous remark  referred  to  the  selection,  its  rendering,  or  the 
modest  repression  of  the  performer — which,  more's  the 
pity,  all  amateurs  do  not-exercise — bowed  impressively  in 
return. 

"Mr.  Farnham,"  exclaimed  Miss  St.  John,  as  he  laid 
down  his  violin,  "  I  am  ashamed  to  confess  that  before  you 
began  to  play,  I  trembled,  for  I  have  so  suffered  from  bad 
violin-playing  that  I  feel  like  running  away  when  I  see  a 
non-professional  take  one  in  hand.  I  congratulate  you  upon 
your  touch.  Your  violin  sings ;  nearly  all  amateurs' 
squeak." 

"You  need  never  tremble  for  anything  Philip  does," 
said  his  father,  speaking  from  his  easy-chair  near  the  win- 
dow. "  It  is  not  his  way  to  fumble  at  anything." 

"  Tut,  tut,  father,"  said  Philip,  looking  at  him  with  an 
affectionate  smile,  "you  mean  to  say  that,  knowing  my- 
self, I  do  not  undertake  great  things." 

"  Now,  Miss  Wright,"  said  Mrs.  Farnham,  as  she  rose 
from  the  piano,  "having  shown  the  clumsiness  of  my  old 
hands  without  apology,  I  trust  you  will  put  more  life  into 
the  instrument  with  your  light  fingers." 

Mahala,  who  had  been  well  trained  on  this  point,  and 
realized  that  one  object  of  her  expensive  musical  education 


DINNER  AT  THE  FARNHAMS.  JQC 

was  to  give  pleasure  to  friends,  quietly  arose  and  gave  her 
hand  to  Philip,  who  approached  her  bowing  and  led  her  to 
the  piano. 

"  Shall  I  play  that  little  valse  and  pizzicati,  by  Delibes, 
Aunt  Dude  ? "  she  said,  turning  to  Miss  St.  John. 
«  "  Certainly,"  answered  her  aunt,  "  it  follows  naturally 
after  the  violin." 

"  But  it  is  rather  a  poor  imitation,  as  I  shall  give  it,  I 
fear,"  said  pretty  Mahala,  looking  with  a  little  timidity  at 
the  violinist,  as  she  commenced  the  piquant  staccato 
movement.  She  played  without  affectation  and  with  a 
crispness  and  delicacy  which  was  born  of  her  own  nerve 
and  a  perfect  technique. 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Squire  Farnham,  as  she  rippled  out  the 
last  chord,  "  that  is  inspiriting.  I  could  almost  lock  my  fin- 
gers at  arms'  length  and  dance,  d  la  ballet,  myself,  to  such 
music." 

This  ambitious  expression  of  the  dignified  old  man 
raised  a  general  laugh  at  his  expense.  Mahala  was  leaving 
the  piano,  but  he  would  not  have  it  so. 

"  No,  no,"  he  cried,  "  something  more.  I  shall  not  have 
you  here  often  to  play  to  me ! " 

As  the  old  man  said  the  last  words,  Mahala  turned  smil- 
ing to  him  and  met  such  a  burning  glance  from  the  brown 
eyes  of  his  son  who  stood  back  of  his  chair,  that  her  heart 
gave  a  quick  bound,  and  something  in  her  throat  was  like 
to  suffocate  her,  but  she  managed  to  say,  "  I  will  play  you 
the  March  of  the  Marionettes,  if  you  like  a  burlesque  in 
music." 

"  Oh,  anything  you  choose  will  be  charming,  I  am  sure," 
said  Mrs.  Farnham. 


jgg  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Well,"  said  Mahala,  showing  her  dimples,  "you  must 
know  that  this  is  the  funeral  march  of  a  broken  doll.  It 
is  by  Gounod,  and  pleases  every  one  who  is  not  too 
severely  classic  to  enjoy  fun." 

"A  kind  fate  forbid  that  we  should  ever  get  to  that!  " 
said  Mrs.  Mather,  who  was  delighted  to  see  her  pet  show- 
ing to  such  advantage. 

"The  first  discordant  sounds  are  the  wails  of  the  be- 
reaved companion  marionettes,  and  you  must  interpret 
the  rest  for  yourselves,"  said  Mahala,  and  she  struck  the 
harsh  notes  with  an  evident  sense  of  the  humor  of  the 
piece  and  fell  into  the  ludicrous  measured  monotones  ot  the 
march.  Every  listener  was  fain  to  smile  as  she  cleverly 
brought  out  the  sudden  and  exaggerated  grief  of  an  explo- 
sive chord,  which  was  immediately  followed  by  the  hushed 
tread  of  the  successive  measures.  Louder  and  nearer 
came  the  manikin  procession,  until  on  the  return  the 
minor  and  jerky  movement  was  again  taken  up  and  finally 
died  away  in  the  distance. 

"Good!  good!"  cried  the  amused  listeners,  laughing, 
and  falling  into  an  animated  chattering  over  the  inimitable 
bit  of  humor  in  music,  when  Robert  appeared  at  the  door. 
"Mrs.  Farnham,"  he  announced,  with  much  dignity,  "de 
dinner  is  served." 

Mr.  Philip  Farnham  had  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Mather 
in  going  out  to  dinner,  and  it  so  happened  that  Mahala, 
who  had  been  pleased  to  take  the  seat  beside  the  old 
squire,  found  herself  also  beside  the  son  at  the  table.  If 
Mrs.  Mather  had  anything  to  do  with  this  arrangement, 
which  seemed  so  intensely  satisfactory  to  the  tall  young 


DINNER  AT  THE  FARNHAMS.  ICj^ 

gentleman,  she  must  answer  for  it  to  her  own  conscience. 
It  was  really  remarkable  how  much  these  two  people  had 
to  say  to  each  other,  and  how  absorbingly  interesting  their 
exchange  of  ideas  upon  the  most  trivial  topics. 

"  I  understand  that  Hartford  society  has  quite  a  literary 
tone,"  observed  Philip  across  the  table  to  Miss  St.  John, 
during  a  lull  in  the  hum  of  conversation.  "With  the  res- 
ident coterie  of  brilliant  writers  who  have  gathered  in 
your  beautiful  little  city,  and  the  distinguished  visitors 
whom  they  draw  into  their  circle,  it  must  naturally  be  so." 

"  Yes,  doubtless,"  responded  the  lady,  raising  her  brows 
with  a  wicked  twinkle  in  her  bright  eyes.  "  Any  one  can 
walk  or  ride  without  extra  charge  by  Mark  Twain's  or 
Charles  Dudley  Warner's  house,  and  I,  myself,  have  a 
speaking  acquaintance  with  the  Misses  Stowe's  pug  dog. 
To  be  sure,  he  is  hardly  as  select  in  his  tastes  as  one  might 
expect,  and  often  follows  after  the  grocery  wagon  or  any 
child  he  may  happen  to  fancy,  and  is  returned,  after  some 
days,  and  ransomed  by  his  mistress.  Still,  I  feel  a  sort  of 
prestige  in  being  recognized  by  him." 

A  generel  laugh  followed  this  sally,  and  as  it  subsided 
Mrs.  Farnham  said,  "Surely,  Miss  St.  John,  you  do  not 
depreciate  the  elevating  effect  that  must  be  felt,  from  even 
the  sight  about  the  streets,  of  those  who  have  accomplished 
.so  much  in  literature." 

"No,  Mrs.  Farnham,  she  cannot,"  quickly  interposed 
Mrs.  Mather,  "  but  Miss  St.  John  cannot  resist  a  little  sar- 
casm because  we  are  all  so  proud  of  our  literati." 

"And  because  writing  does  not  happen  to  be  in  her 
line,"  added  Mahala,  with  some  indignation  ;  "but  I  have 


!gg  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

known  auntie  to  walk  five  miles  to  see  a  celebrated 
artist!" 

"Ha,  ha!  There,  Miss  St.  John,  now  you  are  certainly 
silenced!"  exclaimed  Squire  Farnham.  "By the  way,"  he 
continued,  turning  to  the  artist,  "have  you  seen  C.  D. 
Weldon's  last  etching  ?  I  am  told  it  is  excellent.  I  used 
to  have  a  taste  for  pictures ;"  and  they  began  to  talk  of  cel- 
ebrated proofs  and  remarques,  and  after-the-letters,  and 
discussions  of  the  scarcity  and  rising  value  of  certain  en- 
gravings, and  a  general  interest  was  excited  in  the  listen- 
ers, so  that  Philip  said  quietly  to  Mahala :  "I  judge  you 
incline  to  literature  more  than  to  art  ? " 

"Yes,  I  confess  I  do,"  she  replied,  modestly,  "one  can- 
not help  but  feel  the  mental  impetus  which  the  familiar 
presence  of  successful  authors  does  lend  to  society.  But 
while  encouraged  by  their  example  to  attempt  some  things? 
we  always  feel  it  is  like  holding  a  penny  dip  to  an  electric 
light" 

"Fie,  fie,  dear.  It  is  well  to  maintain  self-respect  in 
this,  as  in  other  matters,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  who  had  been 
keeping  up  the  picture  discussion  by  an  occasional  perti- 
nent question,  when  conversation  seemed  likely  to  flag,  but 
who  now  showed  she  had  two  ears. 

"  Miss  Wright  has  written  some  very  pretty  things,  Mr, 
Farnham  ;  and,  what  is  more,  sold  them,  too." 

"Ah,  Julie,  please!"  cried  Mahala;  but  Mrs.  Mather 
now  returned  to  art. 

"Do  you  know,  Squire  Farnham,"  she  said,  with  great 
interest,  "what  has  finally  become  of  the  few  last  copies  of 
Folo's  line  engraving  of  the  Madonna  dei  Candelabri  ? 


DINNER  AT   THE  FARNHAMS.  599 

There  is  one  in  the  possession  of  a  friend  of  mine,  and  he 
would  not  part  with  it  for —  " 

"  Miss  Wright,"  said  Philip,  with  admiration  in  his  face, 
"  I  am  daily  surprised  at  the  versatility  of  American  girls. 
It  is  a  charming  fact  that  many  of  our  modern  journalists 
are  beautiful  ladies.  I  would  so  like  to  know  what  you 
have  done." 

"Oh,  it  is  really  nothing  at  all,  to  speak  of,  and  except 
for  the  possible  innuendo  in  your  word  versatility"  she 
answered,  archly,  "  I  would  not  tell  you  anything  about 
it.  Do  you  think  it  likely  that  any  editor  would  accept  an 
article  from  a  girl  who  could  be  capable  of  swinging  on 
birches  ? "  she  inquired,  as  she  dipped  a  piece  of  celery  in 
the  salt  by  her  plate. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Wright,  that  is  unkind  !  I  never  thought  of 
such  a  thing.  I  was  considering  only  your  bright  and 
winning  ways,  which  are  the  antipodes  of  what  we  used  to 
expect  in  a  literary  woman  ;  your  musical  accomplishments, 
your  love  of  nature  and  out-of-door  life  on  your  wheels, 
and —  " 

"  Well,  that  will  do,"  Mahala  interrupted,  putting  out 
her  hand  and  dimpling  a  little.  "  Pray  do  not  feel  obliged 
to  farther  perjure  yourself  to  be  polite,"  and  she  laughed 
merrily  at  his  indignant  attempt  at  a  protest. 

"  Surely,  Miss  Wright  is  holding  her  own,  again,"  said 
Julie  to  herself,  dishonorably  listening. 

"But,  tell  me  about  your  writings,"  entreated  Philip 
again. 

"They  are  really  nothing,"  reiterated  Mahala,  toying 
with  her  napkin,  "  except  a  few  little  chatty  sketches  of  no 


2QO  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

depth  or  importance,  which  an  editor  has  been  kind  enough 
to  publish.  When  I  first  got  out  of  school  I  had  the  usual 
graduate's  idea  of  a  career,  and  of  course  was  much  grati- 
fied when  my  little  sketches  were  accepted." 

"I  wish  I  might  see  your  articles,"  said  Philip,  eagerly, 
"  I  am  sure  they  are  full  of  sunshine  and  kindness." 

"  But,"  continued  the  youthful  author  of  the  sketches, 
"  I  must  tell  you  that  what  little  confidence  I  had  gained 
from  the  publication  of  the  poor  little  compositions  was 
taken  out  of  me  when  I  wrote  a  story.  I  suppose  the  good 
editor,  who  had  become  my  friend,  would  have  taken  it 
from  pity,  but  as  that  was  just  what  I  did  not  want,  I  sent 
it  where  no  one  knew  me,  to  ascertain  if  there  was  any 
merit  in  it.  As  it  soon  came  back  to  me  with  a  polite 
printed  slip  declining  it,  I  began  to  see  the  truth." 

"Which  is — "  said  Philip,  interested. 

"  That  it  requires  something  more  than  a  small  gift  of 
light  talk  on  places  and  persons  to  write  a  novel.  Brains 
are  necessary,  I  begin  to  believe,"  she  finished,  sagely. 

"What  was  your  story  about?"  inquired  Philip,  curi- 
ously. 

"  Oh,  a  simple  tale  of  a  poor  city  seamstress  and  a  young 
farmer  whom  she  met  in  the  country.  It  dealt  with  very 
unassuming  characters,  you  see.  I  thought  I  would  not 
begin  with  foreign  nobility,"  she  smiled  at  him. 

"  Of  course  there  was  something  of  love  in  it  ? "  he  said, 
softly,  bending  his  head  nearer. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said  shortly,  becoming  much  interested 
in  the  figures  in  the  frieze.  "  Have  you  had  good  success 
in  hunting,  this  year,  Mr.  Farnham,"  she  offered,  as  the 
beginning  of  a  new  subject. 


DINNER  AT  THE  PARNHAMS.  2Ql 

"Thank  you!"  answered  the  young  man,  with  a  busi- 
ness air,  "I  have  had  very  good  success,  so  far,"  and  he 
began  to  laugh. 

Mahala  flushed. 

Then,  in  a  lower  tone,  he  continued,  "  If  I  meet  with  no 
disappointment  in  the  next  few  days,  I  shall  count  this  the 
most  enjoyable  season  of  my  life.  But  please  tell  me  if 
your  story  was  accepted  at  some  other  place." 

"  How  very  persistent  you  are,  sir,"  said  the  little  maid, 
looking  at  him  in  a  manner  which  was  meant  to  be  saucy 
but  which  softened  into  a  blush,  as  she  looked  away,  any- 
where to  escape  his  disconcerting  eyes.  "  Well,  then,"  she 
said,  dashing  into  the  narrative  to  hide  her  unaccountable 
confusion,  "  I  tried  another  magazine  with  the  same  result. 
Then  I  placed  the  manuscript  in  a  pigeon-hole  in  my  desk 
and  let  it  lie  six  months.  Then  I  took  it  out,  and  read  it, 
calmly  and  judicially.  It  still  seemed  to  me  to  be  rather  a 
good  story — up  to  the  average  in  respectable  magazines,  I 
think.  So  I  made  another  offer  of  it,  and  it  was  again 
rejected.  The  boys,  of  course,  knew  about  it,"  she  went  on, 
smiling  at  the  recollection,  "  and,  from  at  first  confidently 
expecting  to  see  it  in  one  of  the  leading  magazines,  they 
began  to  make  fun  as  it  returned,  and  they  now  speak  of  it 
as  '  the  great  American  traveler.' "  Here  she  fell  into  such 
a  laugh  at  her  own  expense,  that  Philip,  who  had  been  in- 
dignant for  her  sake,  could  not  resist  the  infectious  ripple 
of  merriment,  and  joined  at  first  apologetically  and  then 
heartily,  so  that  every  one  stopped  talking  to  look  at 
them,  and  Mrs.  Mather  cried,  with  a  great  show  of  inquisi- 
tiveness,  "  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  " 


2Q2  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

"  I  am  laughing  at  a  little  story  of  Miss  Wright's/' 
answered  Mr.  Farnham. 

"Which  is  too  worn  to  bear  repeating,"  added  Mahala; 
and  Robert  came  with  the  dessert. 

"  Where  is  '  the  great  American  traveler '  at  present, 
Miss  Wright  ? "  said  Philip,  half  an  hour  later,  amidst  the 
noise  of  leaving  the  table. 

"It  is  in  Boston,  just  now,"  she  answered,  good  humor- 
edly,  "and  has  been  gone  so  long  that  I  almost  begin  to 
think  it  will  make  its  debut  there." 

"Oh,  I  think  I  know  what  is  the  matter  with  my 
story,"  said  Mahala,  as  she  sat  down  on  the  window-seat 
in  the  hall  with  her  attendant,  "  it  is  not  in  the  fashionable 
style.  It  is  a  straight-forward  narrative,  with  no  psychol- 
ogy, and  no  impression  effects.  It  is  necessary  just  now, 
you  know,"  she  said,  with  her  bird-like  turn  of  the  head 
and  look  askance,  "to  convey  a  world  of  meaning  in  one 
broad  touch,  just  as  artists  daub  on  half  a  dozen  blotches 
in  a  mist  and  call  it  Venice,  or  a  Gypsy  Camp.  It  is  not 
now  in  good  form  to  work  out  details,  in  anything.  It  is 
exceedingly  unflattering  to  the  reader's  or  critic's  percep- 
tions. Perceptions  must  be  taken  into  account  and 
respected.  It  is  because  I  have  not  done  so,  that  my  story 
will  probably  have  to  go  to  a  dime  publication." 

Philip  was  greatly  amused  as  well  as  somewhat  surprised 
to  hear  the  prattle  of  his  charming  new  acquaintance, 
which,  delivered  in  the  most  inconsequential  and  girlish 
manner,  yet  possessed  an  intelligence  which  showed  that 
she  was  using  her  mind  to  evolve  original  conclusions. 
He  had  been  getting  rather  blasd  in  New  York,  and  had 


DINNER  AT   THE  FARNHAMS.  2(>3 

almost  forgotten  that  there  might  be  an  attractive  medium 
between  the  traditional  young  woman  of  literary  tastes, 
who  is  always  decorated  with  a  green  veil,  blue  glasses, 
and  a  copy  of  Emerson, — whose  ideas  of  style  are  null, 
and  whose  information  of  the  world's  work  and  culture  is 
bounded  by  the  narrow  horizon  around  "  the  Hub,"  and 
the  stylish  New  York  girl,  self-possessed  and  worldly-wise 
at  eighteen,  but  with  so  little  unengaged  time  at  her  com- 
mand as  to  be  unable  to  think  of  anything  long  enough  to 
digest  it  and  have  opinions  concerning  it.  Unfair  as  this 
idea  of  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  girls  in  the  two 
cities,  which  are  often  thus  compared,  may  be,  Philip  enter- 
tained it,  as  many  another  man  has  done,  judging  the 
whole  from  types  he  had  known.  But  in  the  actions  and 
conversation  of  this  alternately  merry,  Jiarum-scarum,  and 
wise  and  philosophical  Miss  Wright,  he  told  himself  he 
had  discovered  a  very  interesting  phase  of  girlish  charac- 
ter. There  are  many  such  in  the  several  cities,  mid-way 
between  the  centre  of  worldliness  and  the  acme  of  self- 
complacent  culture. 

Mr.  P.  L.  Farnham  was  much  interested,  "  merely  in  a 
new  style  of  girl,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  he  continued  to 
think  of  her  long  after  the  visitors  had  made  their  depar- 
ture, and  Robert  had  returned  and  reported  their  safe 
arrival  at  Mr.  Stearns's.  He  had  taken  the  "Times," 
which  he  had  not  found  time  to  look  at,  or  indeed  thought 
of,  since  the  mail  came,  and  had  been  reading  an  occasional 
paragraph  to  his  father.  The  Squire",  who  was  somewhat 
fatigued  by  the  unusual  excitement  attendant  upon  a 
spirited  political  discussion  with  Mr.  Stearns  (Stearns  was 


2O4  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

terribly  obstinate,  he  said),  lay  back  in  his  easy-chair,  lis- 
tening with  closed  eyes ;  but  somehow  Philip  found  less 
interesting  matter  than  usual.  "  It  must  be  an  awful 
grind  to  get  up  a  paper  every  day,"  he  said,  "  It 's  no 
wonder  they  are  stupid  occasionally." 

He  had  sat  silent  during  fifteen  minutes,  reading  over 
one  line  a  score  of  times,  while  his  mind's  eye  saw  only 
ilitting  glimpses  of  a  pair  of  dark-blue  eyes  fringed  with 
long  lashes,  the  toe  of  a  neat  and  practical  boot,  a  gray 
dress  closely  fitting  the  lithe,  graceful  figure,  and  the 
quaint  silver  chatelaine  she  had  worn  at  her  waist.  Then 
came  a  vision  of  a  blue  gown  with  satin  ribbons,  tiny  slip- 
pers, and  a  book  in  hand,  curled  upon  a  lounge  in  Farmer 
Stearns' s  sitting-room.  Then,  a  struggling  figure  hanging 
"by  the  arms  from. a  nodding  birch  tree,  cries  of  distress, 
and  an  ignominious  fall  to  the  earth. 

He  smiled  behind  the  paper.  Every  little  gesture,  every 
smallest  change  in  the  bewitching  dimples  around  the 
frank  mouth,  came  ever  and  again  into  his  strangely-wan- 
dering thoughts ;  and  always  a  bewildering  maze  of  curling 
hair,  clustering  in  soft  curves  about  the  intelligent  fore- 
head, and  growing  so  prettily  about  the  neck.  He  arose 
at  last  and  walked  out  into  the  hall,  and  stood  looking 
over  the  sash-curtain,  out  into  the  night,  and  began  hum- 
ming "Little  ringlets  round  her  ears."  He  had  consid- 
ered the  hero  of  "  Shandon  Bells  "  a  weakly,  love-sick  fel- 
low. Why  should  this  line  come  to  his  mind  ?  But  it 
seemed  very  pretty  now,  and  so  descriptive  of  certain  little 
whorls  which  he  had  lately  seen. 

'•  You  hear  the  secrets  that  she  hears, 
Little  ringlets  round  her  ears." 


DINNER  AT   THE  PARNHAMS.  2Q5 

Hum, — he  wished  he  knew  what  the  rest  of  the  verses 
were. 

He  thought  he  would  ride  over  to  the  post-office  in  the 
morning  and  just  look  in  at  Mr.  Stearns's,  to  see  if  he 
could  be  of  any  service  during  the  day. 

How  kind  they  were  to  remain  over  for  the  party. 

Twenty-eight  to-morrow  ! 

His  mother  always  insisted  upon  making  a  birth-day 
party  for  him.  It  had  bored  him  somewhat,  in  times  past, 
to  do  the  agreeable  to  a  horde  of  distant  feminine  cousins, 
and  the  young  men  in  town,  with  whom  ^he  had  so  little 
in  common. 

But  this,  this  would  be  so  different.  He  would  ride 
over  to  town  in  the  morning.  In  fact,,  Mrs.  Mather  had 
invited  him  to  do  so. 

What  a  charming  lady  she  was ;  and  so  fond  of  M-Miss 
Wright. 

What  a  vile  name  to  call  her  by ! — "  Mike  !  "  how  per- 
fectly rude  and  horribly  inappropriate  !  It  should  be 
Psyche.  No,  that  were  an  omen  of  unhappiness.  Sprite 
would  do  better,  or — 

He  thought  he  would  go  to  the  .barn  to  see  if  his 
saddle  and  things  were  in  order.  He  had  tramped  so 
much  of  late,  that  poor  old  Prince  had  been  neglected. 

"  I  think  I'll  ride  him  to-morrow  morning,"  he  said  to 
the  old  colored  servant.  "  You  may  have  him  ready  for 
me  at  seven  o'clock — no  !  Hang  it !  That  won't  do — you 
may  saddle  him  at  half-past  eight,  Robert." 

"  I'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  ye  say  that,  Mister  Philip,  for 
he  has  n't  had  a  gentleman  on  his  back  but  two  or  th'ee 


2O6  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

times  since  he  come  from  de  boat.  He  tried  his  bes'  to 
th'ow  me,  the  fust  time  I  mounted  him,  but  he  found  an 
old  nigger  kin  stick  on,  ef  he  can't  look  so  terrible  got  up 
as  his  master  kin.  H'yah !  yah  !  but  aint  he  a  reglar 
steeple-picker,  though,  when  he 's  out  on  show ! " 

His  young  master  smiled,  and  saying  good-night,  walked 
to  the  barn-door.  He  turned.  "Robert." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  I  don't  mind  if  you  have  him  at  the  door  a  little  past 
eight.  I  have  several  places  to  go  to." 

"All  right,  sir.  I  guess  I'll  jes'  put  a  little  extra  shine 
on  that  silver.  It  looks  mighty  purty  nex'  to  the  russet 
leather;"  said  Robert,  as  he  got  out  his  chamois-skin  and 
powder,  and  took  down  the  bridle  from  its  place  in  a 
closet. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


T  T  AVE  you  any  commissions  for  me,  mother  ?  I  am 
JL  A  going  to  ride  over  to  town,"  said  Philip,  the  next 
-morning,  as  he  drew  on  his  gloves  in  the  hall.  They  were 
drab,  to  compare  with  his  neck-tie,  which  scarcely  showed 
above  the  close  buttoning  of  the  high-collared  coat,  and 
with  his  pantaloons,  which  were  of  the  same  soft  tint  and 
were  tucked  into  high  boots. 

"No,  I  "think  not,"  the  lady  replied,  laughing  a  little, 
"  you  could  not  bring  over  one  letter  without  distending 
the  pockets  of  that  perfect  coat  in  a  shocking  manner. 
No,  dear ;  Robert  will  attend  to  everything.  Be  a  good 
boy,"  she  added,  half  in  jest  and  yet  in  tender  maternal 
pride,  that,  strong  manias  he  was,  in  the  prime  of  his 
strength  and  self-reliance,  he  was  still  "  her  boy."  He 
lifted  his  hat  from  his  red-brown  locks,  and  looked  back 
with  an  affectionate  smile  as  Prince  sprang  blithely  away. 

"  He  is  a  handsome  fellow,  if  he  is  my  son,  Robert/' 
said  the  loving  mother,  as  she  turned  after  watching  him 
out  ot  sight. 

"'Deed  he  is,  missus/'  answered  old  Robert,  rubbing  his 

(207) 


2O8  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

hands  together,  "  and  I'm  bleeged  ter  say  some  younger 
ladies  may  think  so,  too." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know,"  said  the  lady,  who  was  accustomed 
to  remarks  from  Robert  which  might  have  seemed  un- 
pleasantly familiar  in  a  whiter  skin  or  less  aged  retainer. 
"They  must,  you  know,  if  they  have  eyes  in  their  heads." 

Mothers  are  so  singularly  warped  in  their  judgment  of 
these  matters. 

"Ah,  good  morning,  Mr.  Farnham,"  called  a  voice  from 
the  side  of  the  road  where  it  crossed  a  bridge. 

He  drew  up  his  horse  and  saw  Miss  St.  John  by  the 
way  with  her  sketching  apparatus  arranged  for  use.  Philip 
dismounted  at  once. 

"Oh,  pray  do  not  dismount,"  cried  the  lady,  who  held  a 
palette  in  her  left  hand,  while  she  poked  among  the  tubes 
in  her  lap,  and  squeezed  one  after  another,  leaving  a  line 
of  colors  around  the  board.  She  had  a  thick  rug  under 
her  feet  and  her  hands  were  protected,  if  not  adorned,  with 
gloves  with  the  finger-ends  cut  off. 

"  I  thought,  as  we  were  to  be  here  another  day,  I  might 
as  well  get  a  sketch  of  this  bridge  and  old  mill,"  she  said, 
in  her  quick  manner,  raising  heij*gray  eyes  from  her  work. 
"  It  would  be  a  pity  to  lose  so  picturesque  a  point.  Don't 
you  think  so  ?" 

"Really,  Miss  St.  John,"  said  Philip,  "I  had  never 
thought  of  it  in  that  light ;  but  you  are  getting  a  pretty 
picture  out  of  it,"  said  he  looking  over  her  canvas. 

"  No,  you  are  wrong.  The  picture  is  there,"  said  the 
artist,  extending  her  hand  and  giving  it  a  little  sweep 
across  the  view,  "  and  I  can  only  feebly  reproduce  it. 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  2O9 

*  Art  may  err,  but  nature  cannot  miss,'  "  and  she  made 
hooks  by  the  sides  of  her  head  with  her  fingers  to  signify 
quotation  marks.  Then  she  exclaimed,  "Do  you  know,  it 
seems  to  me  that  most  people  go  about  this  beautiful 
world  with  their  eyes  shut !  " 

"  Possibly,"  said  the  gentleman,  somewhat  absently,  and 
looking  around  as  if  in  search  of  something. 

"  Probably  !  ".  insisted  the  lady.  "  Look  at  this  scene. 
Could  anything  be  more  perfect  in  coloring  than  the  grays 
of  that  old  wood,  and  the  deep  maroons  and  browns  of 
those  blackberry-vines  ?  Then  see  the  little  clouds  of  the 
feathery  clematis  on  the  rails  of  that  fence.  And  all 
against  the  green  of  the  sward,  and  the  blue  of  the  sky 
and  the  varying  tones  in  the  rippling  water !  What  is 
wanting  to  make  it  perfect  ? " 

"I  would  suggest  a  bit  of  life,"  said  the  business  man, 
with  a  critical  coolness,  which  was  in  strong  contrast  to 
the  enthusiastic  enjoyment  of  the  artist. 

"  Well,  there  you  have  it,  exacting  man  !  Oh,  is  n't  he 
too  cunning?  Let  me  get  that!"  ejaculated  the  lady, 
pointing  to  a  lusty  squirrel,  who  suddenly  jumped  up  from 
the  side  of  the  bridge,  and  with  an  intensely  hurried  and 
business-like  air,  sat  quickly  with  his  umbrageous  tail 
curved  above  his  head,  and  raising  his  handy  paws  to  his 
mouth,  commenced  to  gnaw  a  hole  in  a  large  walnut  which 
he  had  brought  with  him. 

The  artist  made  some  rapid  touches  upon  her  canvas, 
and  an  impression  was  added  to  the  picture.  Although 
indistinct,  it  was  a  gray  squirrel. 

Mr.  Farnham  raised  his  riding  cane  to  his  eye.     "  What 

a  shot !  "  he  cried. 

\v.  &  w.— 14 


210 


WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 


"  Oh,  you  vandal ! "  said  the  lady,  with  indignation.  "  To> 
think  of  killing  him  !  Masculine  nature  is  certainly  cruel. 
I  am  disappointed  in  you,  Mr.  Farnham,"  she  added,, 
severely. 

"  Pray  do  not  be,  Miss  St.  John,"  rejoined  Philip,  calmly,, 
"because  we  do  not  shoot  squirrels  when  there  is  any 
other  game." 

"  But  murder  defenseless  birds,"  she  answered,  quickly. 
"  I  do  not  see  how  you  have  bettered  your  position." 

"Ah,  well,  Miss  St.  John,  you  must  remember  we  are 
not  all  artists,  nor  women.  No  one  can  have  a  higher 
appreciation  of  the  natural  loveliness  of  the  one,  nor  of 
the  qualities  of  mind  and  heart  which  permit  the  other, 
than  I ;  but  you  must  admit  that  practical  pursuits  and 
harder  nerves  are  necessary  to  us  who  are  knocking  about 
the  work-a-day  world." 

The  artist  shook  her  head  at  him.  "Ah,  now  you  think 
you  have  disarmed  me,  with  your  flattering  speech. 
Where  are  you  going  ?  "  she  asked,  with  the  good-humored 
brusquerie  which  was  one  of  her  characteristics. 

"  To — to  the  post-office,"  Philip  replied,  not  quite  at  ease. 
"  And  possibly  to  call  upon  your  friends,  at  Mr.  Stearns's, 
to  see  if  I  can  be  of  any  service  to  them." 

"Oh,  they  sent  their  telegrams  the  minute  they  got 
back  last  evening,  and  I  suppose  will  be  looking  for  replies 
by  this  time.  Still," — she  continued,  looking  at  the  mill 
with  her  head  a  little  on  one  side,  and  giving  some  imper- 
ceptible wipes  to  her  canvas,  "that's  better  isn't  it?" 
she  said,  lost  in  contemplation  of  her  work.  "  Still — what 
was  I  saying  ?  Oh  !  You  might  call,  though  Margie  (Miss. 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  211 

Prescott)  was  going  up  to  Deep  River  with  Mr.  Stearns, 
now  I  think  of  it.  Mrs.  Mather,  I  think,  will  be  in — as 
she  is  always  writing  to  her  husband,  I  believe." 

Not  a  word  of  her,  thought  Philip.  "  I  hope  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  this  evening,"  politely  said  he,  as 
he  took  hold  of  the  reins  at  Prince's  shoulder  and  quickly 
rose  to  the  saddle. 

"  We  shall  certainly  be  there  if  all  is  well.  Good  morn- 
ing," answered  the  artist,  bowing  as  he  raised  his  hat,  and 
returning  instantly  to  her  beloved  work. 

"  Mike,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mather,  who  sat  at 
the  window  of  the  "spare  room,"  which  was,  according  to 
country  custom,  in  the  front  of  the  house,  "here  comes 
Mr.  Farnham  on  horseback !  See  how  beautifully  he 
rides.  His  is  a  figure  for  Fifth  avenue  and  the  park, 
rather  than  this  sedate  street.  Perhaps  he  is  coming 
here." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Mahala.  "  It  is  really  enough  to 
make  one  dislike  him  to  hear  you  and  Aunt  Dude  cite  his 
perfections ;"  but  she  came  to  the  window  with  a  very  rosy 
face  and  peeped  through  the  muslin  curtains.  ^ 

"  He  seemed  very  much  smitten  with  Margery  yester- 
day," continued  the  fathomless  deceiver,  in  an  exceedingly 
careless  tone.  "  His  attitude  of  devotion,  as  he  assisted 
her  to  and  from  the  carriage,  was  very  affecting.  Perhaps 
these  two  matchless  beings  may  majestically  decide  to  love 
each  other.  It  would  seem  most  appropriate,  now  she  is 
off  with  poor  Felix,"  and  she  went  back  to  her  little  chair 
by  the  side  window  with  a  glove  in  her  hand  which  she 
was  mending,  and  sitting  down  in  quite  a  heat,  com- 


212 


WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 


menced  to  sew  on  a  button,  with  some  jerking  of  the 
knotting  silk. 

"  How  do  you  know  she  is  '  off  with  Felix/  as  you  call 
it ;"  said  Mrs.  Mather.  The  young  girl  made  no  reply  ex- 
cept to  cover  one  eye  with  her  hand  and  wink  with  intense 
meaning  with  the  other. 

"  He  is  coming  here,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  looking  out  of 
the  window  and  bowing  cordially  to  some  one  below. 

"  I  think  I  will  go  down  to  the  door,"  she  said,  rising, 
"for  Mrs.  Bronson  is  intent  upon  cooking  this  morning. 
Of  course  you  will  come  down  as  soon  as  you  can,  dear," 
she  said,  pausing  at  the  door  and  looking  back  at  Mahala. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  shall  get  down  before  he  goes, 
or  not,"  indifferently  replied  Miss  Wright.  "  I  have  one 
or  two  buttons  to  sew  on,  and  they  all  need  tightening," 
she  said,  critically  examining  the  glove. 

"  Pshaw  ! "  and  Mrs.  Mather  ran  down  stairs   laughing. 

The  instant  she  had  left  the  doorway,  Miss  Wright's  dig- 
nity vanished,  and  rising  she  sped  softly  to  the  window 
and  stood  with  flushing  cheeks  and  quick  breath,  peeping 
through  the  thin  curtain,  as  the  horseman  sprang  from  the 
saddle  and  came  up  the  walk  with  a  glow  of  expectant 
pleasure  in  his  fine  face. 

Then  Mahala  took  two  handfuls  of  her  dark  curls  and 
wrenched  them  fiercely  as  she  turned  to  her  chair.  "Oh, 
why !  Why,  do  I  care  about  this  man  who  never  does 
anything  that  is  inelegant — who  is  so  sure  of  his  ability  to 
please  and  always  seems  to  be  laughing  at  my  poor  despi- 
cable, hoydenish  mishap  ?  But  I  do,  I  do,"  she  whispered, 
buttoning  her  boots  with  eager  haste. 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  213 

As  she  arose  from  her  seat  upon  the  floor,  which  is  the 
customary  girlish  attitude  in  dressing  the  feet,  she  saw  her 
agitated  face  in  the  mirror.  "  You  are  a  little  fool !  Yes, 
a  perfect  fool  !  "  she  said  to  it ;  which  expression  seemed 
to  relieve  her  mind,  and  she  sat  down  by  the  window  to 
get  cool. 

"  Ah,  good  morning,  Mr.  Farnham,"  cried  the  young 
matron,  who  opened  the  door  without  waiting  for  Philip  to 
ring,  saluting  him  with  the  friendly  freedom  and  charming 
bonhommie  which  married  women  who  are  perfectly  secure 
in  their  husbands'  love,  and  are  free  from  all  fear  of  impu- 
tations of  undue  regard  for  otber  men,  can  exercise  so 
pleasantly ;  "  come  in.  We  thought  perhaps  you  might 
ride  over,  this  delightful  morning." 

"  We,"  whispered  Mahala,  who  was  listening  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs.  "  Julie  Mather,  who  gave  you  leave  to  say 
that  ? "  She  bit  her  lip.  "  I  shall  take  care  to  contradict 
that,  in  my  first  remark." 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Mather,"  said  the  deep  voice  of  the  visitor 
below  stairs,  "it  was  so  extremely  bright  this  morning  that  I 
thought  I  would  give  Prince  a  little  exercise.  The  old  fellow 
has  suffered  from  disuse  since  I  brought  him  on  from  New 
York,  and  as  I  had  some  errands  to  do  in  town,  and  you  so 
kindly  asked  me  to  call —  " 

"  Oh  !  Indeed  !  She  asked  him  to  come,  did  she  ? " 
said  the  listener  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  straightening  up 
her  slender  figure  with  a  quick  suspicion.  "  Mrs.  F.  W. 
Mather,  what  does  that  mean  ?  Can  Julie  so  demean  her- 
self as  to  turn  one  of  these  detestable  married  flirts  ?  New 
York  men  are  terribly  fast,  I  understand,  under  all  their 


214  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

polish.  Heigh —  "  but  she  held  her  breath,  stopping  the 
sigh  in  the  middle,  for  he  was  speaking  again. 

"  I  had  a  spicy  little  interview  with  Miss  St.  John,  who 
was  sketching  at  the  bridge  as  I  came  by.  She  is  certainly 
a  most  entertaining  and  attractive  lady,  with  her  love  for 
art  and  her  strong  common-sense  and  quick  retorts."  He 
laughed  enjoyably.  "  She  called  me  a  vandal  and  told  me 
she  was  disappointed  in  me,  in  less  than  five  minutes  after 
my  arrival." 

"  Good  gracious  !  Has  Aunt  Dude  begun  it,  too  ? " 
gasped  Mahala,  as  a  flush  rose  to  her  face.  "  Auntie  is 
very  attractive,  and  not  more  than  five  years  older  than  he  ; 
but  I  will  never  call  him  uncle  !  "  she  exclaimed  decisively, 
and  then  as  the  idea  struck  her  more  forcibly,  she  sped  on 
tip-toe  into  the  chamber  and  laughed  in  smothered  cachin- 
nations  until  the  tears  stood  in  her  eyes  and  the  changeful 
face  became  rueful.  But  how  fast  they  were  talking  down 
there  in  the  sitting-room.  She  stepped  noiselessly  to  the 
balustrade  again. 

"  I  hardly  understood  what  she  meant  by  saying  you  had 
sent  telegrams  and  were  expecting  replies  this  morning, 
and  was  about  to  ask,  fearing  that  something  might  have 
occurred  to  prevent  your  coming  to  our  house  to-night,  to 
call  you  home  perhaps,  when  she  dismissed  me  by  becom- 
ing absorbed  in  her  work;  and  now  I  recall  it,  said  you  ex- 
pected to  attend  the  party." 

"Oh,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  who  was  laughing  heart- 
ily, "  how  like  Dude  that  is  !  She  has  so  little  regard  for 
the  concealment  of  the  harmless  subterfuges  by  which  we 
women  strive  to  be  appropriately  dressed  without  apparent 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  2Ic 

effort  at  all  times.  But  in  this  instance,  as  no  one  who 
gave  us  credit  for  good  sense  would  imagine  that  we 
should  come  on  a  jaunt  of  this  kind  prepared  for  a  party, 
I  do  not  mind  admitting  that  Margery  and  Mahala  have 
sent  to  Hartford  for  some  evening  dresses.  Miss  St.  John 
and  I  will  do  very  well  in  spare  dresses  which  we  brought 
along,  but  you  could  not  expect  the  girls  to  place  them- 
selves in  juxtaposition  to  the  resident  belles  without  an 
appropriate  costume.  No  young  lady  who  respected  her- 
self would  do  it.  But  for  goodness  sake  don't  say  I  told 
you ! " 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  the  gallant  visitor.  "  I  have 
a  great  respect  for  ladies'  judgment  on  anything  pertain- 
ing to  matters  of  this  kind,  and  should  not  have  presumed 
to  inquire  into  this  secret  had  I  known  it  to  be  such." 

"  Well,  that  is  rather  nice  of  you,  at  all  events,"  said  the 
•dishonorable  listener  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  "  I  will 
not  go  down  unless  he  asks  for  me.  I  am  determined  in 
that !  "  she  said  to  herself. 

"  Miss — " 

Hark  Mahala  ! 

"  Miss  Prescott  is  not  in  this  morning,  Miss  St.  John 
told  me.  I  am  sorry  not  to  see  her.  Is  her  sprained  ankle 
getting  strong  once  more  ?  " 

"  Entirely  well,  I  think,"  answered  Mrs.  Mather.  "  A 
few  days'  rest  was  all  that  was  needed  to  set  it  right." 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  the  manly  voice  again.  "  I 
judge  she  must  be  a  very  graceful  dancer,  and  I  have  prom- 
ised myself  the  pleasure  of  a  waltz  with  her  this  evening 
and — " 


2i6  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

Mahala  choked. 

"  I  won't  go  to  that  detestable  old  party !  Yes  I  will,, 
for  fear  they  will  think  strange.  But  how  stupid  it  will 
be !  I — I  have  dreaded  it  all  the  time !  I  wish  I  had 
never  come  on  this  rowdyish  trip,  anyway.  Ah  !  " 

"  Miss  Wright  is  well,  I  trust,  this  morning  ?  Is  she 
in  ? " 

"  She  is,"  responded  Julie.  "  She  was  very  busy  when 
you  came,  but  I  think  her  sewing  must  be  nearly  finished 
by  this  time."  She  stepped  to  the  stairs.  "  Mahala  !  " 

No  answer. 

"  Excuse  me,  I  will  speak  to  her,"  and  the  demure 
matron  looked  a  little  out  of  patience  as  she  mounted  the 
stairs,  but  this  gave  way  to  amusement  when  she  found 
the  chamber-door  tightly  closed. 

"  Come,  dear,"  she  said,  in  loving  tones,  intended  to  be 
heard  down  stairs,  as  she  opened  it,  "  Mr.  Farnham  is  get- 
ting tired  of  my  conversation  ;  can  you  not  leave  your 
work  and  come  down  now  ? "  In  a  whisper :  '  Really, 
Mike,  your  caprices  are  almost  too  much  for  my  good 
temper !  You  should  never  allow  yourself  to  be  rude  to 
any  one." 

"  Yes,  Julie,"  answered  Mahala,  with  a  preoccupied 
tone.  "  I  was  going  right  away.  I  am  taking  the  last 
stitch  now,"  and  she  grinned  composedly  at  the  look  of 
wrath  with  which  Mrs.  Mather  regarded  her  empty  hands, 
and  ejaculated  in  low  but  stern  tones,  "Oh,  you  con- 
summate fraud  !  "  and  they  both  went  down  stairs. 

"  I  was  so  surprised  to  see  you  this  morning,  Mr.  Farn- 
ham. I  did  not  know,  until  just  now,  that  Mrs.  Mather 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  21  / 

knew  you  were  coming,  or  I  might  have  done  my  mending 
earlier." 

Here  Julie  started  visibly,  and  gave  her  a  look  showing 
that  she  had  betrayed  the  fact  of  her  listening  at  the 
stairs  ;  but,  confident  of  the  tact  of  her  chaperone,  she 
looked  collectedly  into  Philip's  face  as  she  greeted 
him,  and  glancing  out  of  the  window  as  she  took  a  seat  by 
it,  she  remarked  that  it  was  a  beautiful  day  to  ride. 

Her  nonchalance  completely  disarmed  her  friend,  who 
was  justly  vexed  at  this  new  whim,  but  as  usual  ended  by 
being  greatly  amused  at  the  assurance  of  the  young  offen- 
der, in  taking  it  for  granted  that  her  friend  would  not  be- 
tray her  double-dealing. 

"  If  you  are  surprised,  I  hope  you  are  not  displeased,  to 
find  so  recent  an  acquaintance  calling  so  soon  again." 

Mahala  vouchsafed  no  reply,  except  that  her  cheeks 
grew  a  little  pinker.  • 

"It  is  a  boon  to  me,  no  less  than  to  others  here,"  said 
Philip,  addressing  both,  "  to  be  allowed  to  meet  you  ladies, 
when  we  expected  nothing  more  than  the  usual  monotony 
of  country  living  this  season." 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  consider  the  country  monotonous  ?  " 
airily  rejoined  Miss  Wright,  having  waived  the  first  depre- 
cating remark.  "  There  is  such  endless  variety  in  na- 
ture's moods.  The  trees,  and  flowers,  and  ferns,  and  mosses 
are  an  ever-fascinating  study ;  and  sweet-singing  birds,  and 
jolly  little  squirrels,  innocent  little  deer-eyed  calves,  and 
timid  sheep  are  so  much  better  company  than  most  human 
beings.  Even  an  occasional  snake  prevents  one  from  get- 
ting dull,"  she  added,  thoughtfully. 


-2J  3  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  Not  every  one  is  given  an  eye  to  see  the  beauties  of 
nature  as  you  seem  to,  Miss  Wright,"  Philip  answered. 
"It  is  indeed  an  enviable  faculty,"  he  said,  regarding  her 
with  admiring  eyes,  "and  must  fill  many  a  lonely  hour 
with  exquisite  pleasure.  I  confess  to  have  my  enthusiasm 
for  a  country  home  somewhat  dulled  by  a  busy  life  which 
I  so  much  enjoy  in  the  city.  Of  course,  nothing  can 
shake  my  attachment  for  the  old  house,  but  it  seems  that 
nearly  all  the  interesting  people  round  about  the  town  are 
gone  with  my  childhood."  And  so  they  fell  to  discussing 
matters  in  general,  which  have  no  particular  bearing  upon 
this  story. 

At  last  Philip  turned  to  Mahala :  "  Since  you  are  so  fond 
of  beautiful  scenes  in  the  open  air,  Miss  Wright,  I  regret 
that  I  did  not  harness  Prince  to  a  buggy  and  ask'  you  to 
ride  to  Red  Hill.  The  vista  down  the  river  is  something 
to  be  remembered.  I  think  you  would  enjoy  a  view  of  it, 
and  if  Mrs.  Mather  will  go,  I  will  go  home  and  return  with 
the  carriage  in  half  an  hour."  He  had  suddenly  recol- 
lected himself  and  included  the  chaperone  in  the  invita- 
tion. 

"Oh,  please,  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Mahala,  with 
much  animation,  "  you  see  I  so  much  prefer  my  wheels, 
and  I  intended  to  get  away  somewhere  this  morning. 
Shall  we  go,  Julie  ? " 

"  Certainly,  dear.  You  will  doubtless  enjoy  it  im- 
mensely," answered  the  inefficient  chaperone,  leaving  her- 
self out  of  the  question  with  culpable  disregard  of  her 
bounden  duty. 

"  But  you  will  go,  too  ? "  quickly  asked  Mahala. 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  2 !0 

"  Willingly,  rather  than  hinder  a  pleasant  ride.  But  if 
you  would  be  kind  enough  to  excuse  me,"  said  the  lady, 
looking  from  Mahala  to  Philip  pleadingly,  "I  could  take 
this  quiet  time  to  write  to  my  husband.  I  should  consider 
it  as  a  favor,  still  if  you  insist — " 

"  Why,  surely  not,  if  you  really  prefer  to  remain  here," 
said  Philip,  courteously,  "  although  we  should  be  glad  of 
your  company."  (Julie  knew  it  was  a  fib.)  "  I  trust  to  Miss 
Wright's  appreciation  of  the  lovely  ride  to  compensate  her 
for  a  dull  companion.  She  likes  calves  and  squirrels  better 
than  people,  anyway,  so  that  one  does  not  feel  that  much 
is  required  of  him,  which  is  a  consolation." 

Mahala  forgot  herself  and  flashed  him  a  pouting,  merry 
glance,  as  she  bounded  up  the  stairs  after  her  hat  and 
gloves. 

Philip  looked  gratefully  at  the  faithless  Julie.  "  Mrs. 
Mather,  would  there  be  anything  to  offend  your  chaperon- 
ish  sense  of  propriety  if  we  should  not  return  in  time  for 
lunch  ?  It  is  now  nearly  eleven  o'clock,"  he  said,  consult- 
ing his  watch,  "  and  the  middle  of  the  day  is  the  pleasant- 
est,  out  of  doors,  at  this  season  and —  " 

Mrs.  Mather  smiled.  "  Mahala  needs  no  chaperone, 
Mr.  Farnham,"  she  replied.  "  Her  pure  heart  and  native 
sense  of  propriety  are  always  a  sufficient  guide  togher  in 
gentlemen's  society." 

"  I  am  proud  to  hear  you  vindicate  the  reliability  of  a 
representative  American  girl,"  answered  the  young  man, 
warmly. 

"  I  had  a  real  time,  oiling  my  tricycle  this  morning," 
said  the  young  lady,  as  she  came  pushing  her  machine  out 


22O  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

of  the  driveway  at  the  side  gate.  "  So  it  will  run  well,  I 
hope.'"  Philip  sprang  to  meet  her,  but  she  said,  "  Please 
allow  me  to  manage  it.  You  might  break  it,  you  know,  or 
something."  She  showed  her  white  teeth  while  she  pre- 
tended to  frown. 

"  Is  it  not  a  greasy  business  to  care  for  a  tricycle 
properly  ?  "  asked  the  fastidious  cavalier.  "  Should  you 
not  leave  that  to —  " 

"  To  whom  ? "  she  said,  saucily  elevating  her  chin  and 
gazing  at  him  through  her  dark  lashes. 

"  To — to  a  servant,  or  to  some  one  who  has  already  black 
and  oily  hands,"  Philip  answered  desperately. 

"  No,"  Mahala  answered,  shaking  her  head,  "  it  is  no 
worse  to  clean  than  a  sewing-machine,  or  only  a  little,  and 
I  could  not  trust  to  strangers,  certainly.  Well,  sir,"  she 
continued,  as  she  quickly  rose  to  her  saddle,  "  I  am  ready. 
Perhaps  you  had  better  mount  your  steed,  if  you  are  com- 
ing," and  the  saucy  minx  started  off  a5t  a  great  pace. 

Now,  Prince,  being  an  experienced  New  York  horse, 
possessed  such  an  imperturbability  to  new  and  unfamiliar 
objects  as  is  only  gained  through  much  worldly  knowl- 
edge and  many  and  various  vicissitudes  on  the  road.  He 
was  stylish,  self-possessed,  and  elegant  from  the  tips  of  his 
small  %lack  ears  to  the  end  of  his  banged  tail.  He  was 
cool  in  the  close  vicinity  of  steam-cars,  whether  crashing 
along  at  grade  before  his  high-bred  nose,  or  flying  above 
his  intelligent  head  with  a  deep  roar  and  terrific  speed 
upon  the  elevated  railways.  He  had  stood  patient  and 
philosophical  in  a  Fulton  street  pack  for  an  hour,  and  had 
been  inured  to  the  sight  of  every  known  vehicle,  from  the 


PHILIP'S  DATf.  221 

immense  mail-wagons  and  steam  fire-engines  that  wait  for 
nothing,  to  the  tiny  jerking  dog-cart  carrying  a  dude.  He 
had  locked  wheels  with  the  landau  of  Madame  Millione, 
and  grazed  a  swill-cart  by  the  way.  He  had  been  entan- 
gled in  the  inconsequential  and  exasperating  toils  of  an 
undisciplined  goat -team  in  the  park,  and  had  a  bicycler 
take  "a  header"  into  his  very  face,  while  the  machine  fell 
clattering  against  his  sinewy  legs.  He  rose  superior  to  all 
such  accidents  (which  the  carelessness  and  unskilled  driving 
of  other  teams  inevitably  bring  upon  the  horse  who  most 
thoroughly  understands  himself),  realizing  that  to  lose  his 
temper  or  betray  fear  or  surprise,  were  inexcusable  in  an 
animal  of  his  breeding.  His  business  was  to  shine-,  to 
arch  his  neck  at  telling  moments,  to  curvet  gracefully 
about  the  carriages  of  his  master's  acquaintances,  to  amble 
easily,  to  trot  gently  or  to  run  like  mad,  as  his  rider  indi- 
cated, and  he  meant  to  do  it,  undisttfrbed  or  distracted  by 
little  episodes  along  the  way.  Therefore  he  looked  know- 
ingly towards  Mahala  as  she  mounted  her  saddle  and  heard 
her  sweet  voice  as  she  spun  away,  and  fell  at. once  into  a 
quick  trot  as  his  master  sprang  to  his  back. 

"Do  not  go  so  fast,  I  beg  of  you,  Miss  Wright !  You 
will  certainly  be  fatigued  before  we  return,  if  you  use  your 
strength  so  at  first,"  Philip  remonstrated,  reining  close  be- 
side the  delicate  machine  which  Mahala  sent  so  swiftly 
along.  The  street  was  shaded  by  elms  and  ran  in  single 
and  now  double  roads  through  the  wide  space  between  the 
straight  and  massive  trees.  She  instinctively  chose  her 
way,  now  in  the  drive  and  now  to  one  side  or  the  other  on 
the  firm,  smooth  sward.  Her  lissome  girlish  form  sat 


222 


WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 


easily  between  the  wheels,  her  gauntleted  hands  resting- 
lightly  on  the  handles  at  her  side,  and  her  heavy,  gray 
skirts  fell  in  clinging  folds  about  her  energetic  feet,  which 
showed  just  a  heel  or  toe  below  the  graceful  draperies.  A 
brilliant  color  was  in  her  cheeks  as  she  turned  her  ani- 
mated face  towards  Philip,  who  rode  in  a  little  anxiety  by 
her  side. 

How  jauntily  she  wore  her  hat!  No  one  else  wore  a 
hat  like  that  !  How  prettily  it  sat  upon  her  small  head. 
And  what  a  turn  to  the  plump  shoulders  and  round  arm ! 
(Fie,  man  !  The  dressmaker  does  all  that.)  "  Really,  Miss 
Mahala,"  (there !  So  much  for  allowing  yourself  to  call 
her  so  to  yourself!)  "Miss  Wright,"  he  interjected, 
quickly,  "  you  must  know  that  it  is  five  miles  or  more  to 
Red  Hill  and  back.  I  very  much  fear  you  will  be  too 
tired." 

Mahala  slowed  up  to  a  walking  pace,  to  which  Prince 
immediately  accommodated  himself,  as  she  said,  "  Thank 
you,  Mr.  Farnham,  but  I  am  not  likely  to  get  fatigued  with 
a  five-mile-  run  in  this  exhilarating  atmosphere ;  but  per- 
haps it  may  be  as  well  to  go  slow  until  we  are  beyond  the 
center  of  the  village  a  little.  I  have  caught  a  glance  of 
several  shocked  faces  at  the  windows  as  we  came  along. 
Is  the  spectacle  of  a  lady  riding  a  tricycle  shocking?  We 
are  so  used  to  it  that  we  forget  that  strangers  may  not 
approve." 

"Shocking!"  said  Philip,  in  earnest  admiration,  "far 
from  it.  It  is  charming.  It  is  thoroughly  ladylike,  and 
at  the  same  time  has  a  flavor  of  independence  and  life  and 
healthful  pleasure  about  it,  that  could  but  be  captivating 
to  all  who  possess  health  and  good  spirits." 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  223. 

"  But  I  thought  the  lady  we  just  met,  with  the  thin 
light  hair  and  the  puppy  on  a  string,  looked  displeased. 
She  bowed  to  you,  but  stared  at  me  in  maidenly  horror." 

"Ah,  ha,  ha!"  laughed  Philip,  in  deep  enjoyment  of 
Mahala's  quickness  to  catch  the  disapproval  in  the  lady's 
eye.  "  That  was  my  cousin,"  he  said. 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Mahala,  a  little  frightened. 

"  Yes,"  he  continued,  "  she  spends  her  time  in  watching 
her  neighbors ;  making  slippers,  and  other  things  he 
doesn't  want,  for  the  minister;  has  compiled  a  book  of 
hymns,  browbeats  her  dressmaker,  and  looks  after  the 
morals  of  the  town.  She  thinks  it  rude  in  a  young  lady 
to  laugh  aloud,  detests  children  and  men,  and  loves  no  one 
but  herself  and  that  dog,  who  is  never  out  of  her  sight. 
She  will  be  at  our  house  to-night." 

"Dear  me,"  said  Mahala,  doubtfully,  "is  she — is  she 
nice  to  know?"  she  stammered,  at  a  loss  what  to  say. 
How  could  his  cousin  be  so  disagreeable !  Must  resemble 
some  ancestor  of  a  remote  branch  of  the  family,  she  men- 
tally decided.  "  I  think  I  never  met  just  such  a  person; 
you  must  exaggerate  her  peculiarities." 

"Perhaps,"-  smilingly  assented  Philip.  "You  would 
scarcely  meet  just  such  a  type  in  town.  It  is  remarkable 
as  a  product  of  country  places.  An  old  maid,  city  born 
and  bred,  is  not  such  a  formidable  creature.  She  has 
opportunities  to  see  the  world  as  it  is,  can  but  feel  the 
beneficial  effects  of  an  enlarged  mental  horizon,  and  has  a 
chance  for  culture  and  an  enforced  self-discipline  which 
rounds  the  corners  and  dulls  the  edges  of  selfishness. 
Lizzie  might  be  a  person  of  influence  and  worth  in  society, 


224 


WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 


in  a  city  where  outer  influences  would  dispel  her  egotism 
and  positive  assurance  of  her  own  infallibility.  But  here 
her  active  mind,  otherwise  unemployed,  turns  upon  small 
gossip  and  an  utter  condemnation  of  any  luckless  wight 
who  dares  to  differ  from  her  fixed  ideas  of  religion  or  so- 
cial proprieties.  I  am  acquainted  with  my  cousin.  She 
has  followed  me  with  a  sharp  criticism  since  my  boyhood. 
I  do  not  love  her,  I  fear,  as  a  cousin  should." 

Mahala  laughed  merrily  at  the  serio-comic  air  with 
which  his  last  sentences  were  delivered. 

"  Excuse  me  one  instant,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Philip,  as 
they  rode  along  the  street,  "  I  would  like  to  stop  a  moment 
at  the  store." 

"  Certainly ;  I  will  ride  on  slowly,"  nodded  Mahala. 

As  she  quietly  ran  along  the  road  near  the  sidewalk,  a 
jolly  old  man,  of  rosy  face  and  rotund  form,  came  trudging 
to  the  post-office.  When  he  caught  sight  of  the  sweet 
young  lady  riding  the  unheard-of  vehicle,  clad  so  daintily 
and  in  quiet  style,  looking  up  at  the  graceful  trees  and 
gazing  about  at  the  comfortable  homes  that  ranged  on 
either  side,  he  stopped.  He  planted  his  stout  stick  firmly 
upon  the  ground,  and  said  audibly,  "  Kevins  an'  airth !  " 

Mahala  turned  quickly,  and  looked  into  the  jocund  vis- 
age, now  sobered  with  surprise.  His  whole  appearance 
was  at  once  so  droll,  friendly,  yet  with  a  consuming  curi- 
osity in  his  wide-open  eyes,  that  Mahala  smiled  in  spite  of 
herself.  Whereupon  the  old  fellow's  face  expanded  into  a 
pleased  look,  and  he  said  :  "  Now,  Miss,  really,  if  you 
won't  take  it  unkindly,  will  you  tell  me  what  that  thing  is 
that  you  are  a-ridin'  on  ?  " 


PHILIP'S  DAY. 


225 


"Yes,  I  will,"  said 
Mahala,  good-humor- 
edly.     "  It  is  a  tricy- 
cle.    Did  you  never 
see  one  before?" 

"No,  I  never  did,"  an- 
swered the  old  man.  "  I've 
seen  the  bicycles,  of  course  ;  but 
it  beats  me!  Where  did  you 
come  from  ?  I  know  you  don't 
belong  around  here ;  that  is,  I 
judge  you  don't,"  he  added  as 
Mahala  quizzically  said  "  Why  ? " 
"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  unless  by 
the  general  cut  of  your  jib. 
Where  be  you  from  ?  I  would 
like  to  know,  if  it  don't  make 
no  odds  to  you." 


w.  &  w.— 15 


226  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"I  am  from  Hartford,  sir,"  politely  responded  Mahala, 
who  rightly  inferred  that  this  was  a  kindly  old  soul  unre- 
strained by  polite  reticence  in  his  questions. 

"  Hevins  an'  airth!"  he  ejaculated  again.  "But  you 
haven't  ridden  from  there,  to-day  ?  "  he  pursued,  evidently 
attributing  marvelous  possibilities  to  the  machine. 

"  Not  to-day."  answered  Mahala,  as  she  heard  Prince's 
quick  steps  behind  her. 

"Ah,  how  do  you*  do  this  morning,  Captain  Amos  ? "  said 
the  genial  voice  of  Philip  as  he  rode  up.  "  I  am  glad  your 
rheumatism  lets  you  out  once  more.  I  am  coming  in  to 
settle  with  you  for  that  boat  very  soon." 

"All  right — there  ain't  no  hurry — any  time,"  answered 
the  old  man,  to  whom  the  arrival  of  Philip,  as  escort  to 
this  charming  girl  and  her  wonderful  machine,  was  an 
added  shock  of  surprise  and  wonderment,  and  subsequently- 
furnished  a  topic  for  gossip  at  the  store  for  an  hour. 

As  Mahala,  bowing  pleasantly,  said  "  Good  morning, 
Captain  Amos,"  and  started  her  wheels,  he  stood  and 
watched  them  far  down  the  street,  and  as  he  trudged  on- 
ward he  remarked  "  Hevins  an'  airth  !  "  He  turned  once 
more,  but  they  were  out  of  sight.  "  And  now,"  he  said, 
with  a  curious  shake  of  the  head,  "how  did  she  know  my 
name  ?  That's  what  I  want  to  know  ! " 

On  they  rode,  now  slowly,  enjoying  the  pure  air,  the 
blue  sky,  and  the  glimpses  of  homes,  and  trees,  and  river, 
chatting  freely  upon  all  they  saw  and  thought,  living  in  the 
passing  hour,  which  was  so  full  of  a  nameless  charm  and 
golden  light. 

Philip  was  only  solicitous,  fearing  that  she  would  be- 


PHILIPS  DAY.  227 

come  fatigued.  "I  am  ashamed,"  he  said,  "to  sit  here  on 
Prince's  back  and  see  you  propelling  your  own  vehicle." 

Mahala  instantly  assured  him  that  she  enjoyed  the  ex- 
ercise above  all  things.  "  It  is  merely  a  walk  for  me/'  she 
explained,  "'with  no  more  exertion,  except  when  by  trans- 
mitting more  force  to  these  wheels  they  lend  me  far 
greater  speed.  I  think  these  cycles  must  be  a  realization 
of  the  seven-league  boots,"  she  added,  with  animation,  and 
shot  ahead,  so  that  Prince,  pointing  his  small  ears  forward 
in  surprise  at  this  unexpected  action  of  the  queer  machine 
which  he  was  escorting,  struck  instantly  into  a  quick  can- 
•  ter  and  was  soon  by  Mahala' s  side. 

"  Oh  !  here  we  are  at  the  top  of  a  little  hill !  "  exclaimed 
the  bright-eyed  girl.  "  Now  you  shall  see  where  I  have 
the  advantage  of  you,  Mr.  Farnham,"  and  resting  her  feet 
on  the  bars  in  front,  she  laid  her  hand  on  the  brake  and 
went  flying  down  the  hill  in  what  seemed  to  Philip  a 
most  reckless  manner. 

"  Beware  the  water  bar !  You  may  get  upset !  "  he 
cried,  hastening  after  her.  She  was  waiting  for  him  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill. 

"Well,"  he  said,  in  some  dismay,  "you  certainly  were 
the  victor  that  time,  but — " 

"  Beg  pardon,"  she  said,  bowing,  "  not  I,  but  my  ma- 
chine, is  '  The  Victor.'  You  see,  I  can  slow  up  instantly," 
she  said,  touching  the  brake,  and  glowing  with  enthusias- 
tic pleasure  in  the  sport. 

"  It  is  coasting,  you  know,  without  winter  frost  and 
snow." 

"  It  certainly  seems   very   exhilarating,"   assented  the 


228  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

gentleman,  looking  at  her  bright  red  cheeks.  "  I  have 
never  tried  a  wheel,  Prince  supplying  all  the  exercise  I 
have  time  to  take.  Still,  you  feel  when  riding  horseback 
that  you  are,  after  all,  doing  a  sort  of  lazy  thing.  But  you 
are  perfectly  independent  of  any  volition  but  your  own 
muscles  on  a  wheel.  One  has  a  sense  of  pride  in  a  vigor- 
ous tramp.  Riding  a  tricycle  must  give  something  of  this 
inspiriting  feeling." 

"  Exactly  !  "  answered  Mahala.  "  There  is  an  unac- 
countable fascination  about  it.  I  think  you  have  ex- 
plained it.  Still,"  she  continued,  glancing  up  at  him  with 
a  mischievous  twinkle  in  her  eye,  "it  is  not  ati  fait  for 
women  to  be  independent  in  New  York,  is  it  ?  I  think 
the  wheels  may  be  more  generally  used  in  Massachusetts." 

"  Independent  ?  Yes.  We  want  them  to  be  indepen- 
dent in  health  and  joyous  love  of  life,  in  stanch  principles 
and  a  high  culture,  as  well  as  in  a  practical  education,  by 
which  they  could  care  for  themselves  if  no  stronger  arm 
were  near  to  fight  the  world  for  them.  But  we  would  each 
like  to  have  some  lovely  woman  dependent  on  him  for  love 
and  protection,  giving  him  in  return  the  advantage  of  her 
quick  intuition  and  pure  counsels.  There  need  be  no 
question — " 

"  So  I  think  !  "  quickly  interposed  Mahala.  "Wouldn't 
you  like  to  try  the  wheels  for  a  little  while,  Mr/  Farn- 
ham  ? " 

Philip  came  down  from  his  pedestal  so  suddenly,  that 
for  an  instant  he  scarcely  realized  his  position.  But 
casting  a  searching  glance  at  Mahala's  innocent  face  he 
said,  with  a  short  laugh,  which  was  a  curious  mixture  of 


PHILIPS  DAY.  22Q 

surprise,  chagrin,  and  amusement  in  one  exclamation,  "  I 
don't  mind.  Probably  you  will  like  to  see  me  tip  over  !  " 

"  Oh !  no  indeed  !  It  is  impossible  to  do  so  ! "  protested 
Miss  Wright,  as  she  took  out  her  little  wrench  and  busily 
proceeded  to  raise  the  saddle. 

Philip  had  also  dismounted. 

"There  ! "  she  said,  with  a  business  face,  "  I  think  that 
will  be  about  right  for  you.  I  will  lead  Prince.  You  will 
need  both  hands." 

So  he  followed  her  directions,  and  starting  off  with 
some  success  he  became  bolder  and  put  on  more  speed, 
and  at  once  turned  right  about  and  ran  promptly  into  a 
fence. 

"  I  told  you  the  least  turn  of  the  handle  would  change 
your  course,"  said  Mahala,  coming  up  with  Prince's  nose 
near  her  shoulder.  "  Whoa,  Prince !  I —  " 

She  was  shaking  with  laughter  to  see  the  comical  ex- 
pression of  doubt  with  which  he  was  regarding  the 
machine,  showing  at  th£  same  time  a.  determination  to 
conquer  next  time  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  "  Oh,  I  give 
you  leave  to  laugh,"  he  said  lugubriously,  and  they  both 
laughed  loud  and  long  at  his  expense.  "  But  I  am  going 
to  try  it  again,  just  the  same,"  he  declared,  as  he  pulled 
the  wheels  back  into  the  road. 

The  next  trial  was  eminently  successful,  and  at  the 
young  lady's  request  he  gave  her  his  hand,  and,  placing  her 
foot  in  it,  she  sprang  to  Prince's  back. 

"  I  shall  hardly  try  fast  riding  on  this  saddle,"  she  said, 
as  they  proceeded  at  a  walk,  "but  I  think  that  Prince 
knows  that  I  am  at  a  disadvantage  without  a  pommel,  and 


230  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

will  be  good.  I  can  keep  up  with  you  on  the  wheels,  I 
think.'.' 

So  they  rode  for  a  mile. 

"  You  are  not  a  novice  on  horseback,  I  see,"  said  Philip, 
who,  while  earnestly  engaged  in  managing  the  tricycle, 
still  kept  a  close  watch  on  Prince's  behavior  until  he  saw 
that  Mahala  was  used  to  managing  a  horse. 

"Not  exactly,"  she  smilingly  answered,  "but  since  I 
have  had  my  wheels  I  have  not  cared  so  much  for  riding 
as  formerly." 

"  Do  you  then  prefer  the  tricycle  ? "  asked  Philip,  as  he 
assisted  her  to  dismount. 

"Yes,  very  much,"  Mahala  answered,  as,  after  lowering 
the  saddle,  she  took  her  seat  once  more. 

They  met  a  farmer  and  his  wife,  driving  to  town.  A 
large  basket  of  eggs,  a  covered  wooden  pail,  evidently  con- 
taining butter,  and  several  bags  of  potatoes,  were  in  the 
wagon. 

The  friends  tried  not  to  smile  or  look  conscious  as  this 
team  met  them;  and  they  saw  the  astonishment  depicted 
upon  the  countenance  of  its  occupants.  As  they  passed, 
the  man  turned  in  his  seat  and  was  heard  to  exclaim, 
"  Wai,  I  vum  !  "  but  the  woman  never  looked  behind. 

Soon,  a  clattering  grocery  wagon  overtook  them,  and 
went  rattling  by  at  such  a  pace  that  pails,  baskets,  boxes, 
and  small  parcels,  with  which  it  was  loaded,  knocked  about 
in  great  hazard.  And  as  the  impudent  young  blade  who 
drove  went  by,  with  a  pencil  stuck  under  his  hat,  he  gave 
Philip  a  very  knowing  grin,  and  lowered  one  eyelid  in  an 
intensely  mysterious  manner. 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  231 

Mahala  caught  the  look,  and  glancing  quickly  to  Philip, 
was  surprised  to  see  him  biting  his  lips,  with  amusement 
in  his  eyes ;  but  she  wisely  made  no  comment. 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  foot  of  Red  Hill,"  said  Philip. 
"'  Now,  you'  cannot  ride  your  wheels  up  so  steep  an  in- 
cline." 

"  I  can  put  it  up  quite  a  steep  hill,"  responded  Mahala, 
•"but  it  is  often  pleasanter  to  walk  for  a  little  distance." 

"  This  is  quite  a  long  hill,"  said  Philip.  "  Now,  shall  I 
walk  with  you,  or  will  you  ride  Prince  again  ?  Here  !  " 
he  exclaimed,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  why  cannot 
I  hitch  this  strap  to  one  of  your  cross-bars  and  draw  you 
up  the  hill? "  And  with  an  access  of  buoyant  spirit  which 
sat  not  illy  upon  the  whilom  dignified  young  man,  he 
hastily  unrolled  a  long  leather  thong  which  was  coiled  at 
his  saddle,  and  with  much  laughing  and  exclaiming,  with 
alternate  confidence  and  dismay  in  contemplation  of  the 
novel  scheme,  from  Mahala,  he  fastened  the  strap  back  of 
her  small  wheel,  sprang  again  to  his  saddle  and  started 
Prince  with  caution. 

That  sagacious  animal,  perceiving  that  this  was  an 
unique  excursion  in  all  its  features,  slowly  felt  for  the 
additional  weight  behind  him,  and  soon  gauging  it,  walked 
soberly  up  the  hill,  just  as  if  he  had  not  a  young  gentle- 
man on  his  back  who,  half  turned  in  the  saddle,  was  laugh- 
ing and  slapping  his  knees  in  high  glee,  as  he  regarded  the 
joyous  and  sweetly  dimpling  face  of  the  young  lady  who 
sat  littering  little  exclamations  of  triumph  and  clapping 
her  hands  on  the  curious  vehicle  in  the  rear. 

Undignified  ?     Very.     Hoydenish,  perhaps.    But,  ladies 


232  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

of  uncharitable  hearts  and  vinegarish  remarks,  it  was  pure 
and  unadulterated  fun.  Would  there  were  more  of  it  in 
this  sober,  prosaic  world  ! 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Mahala,  looking  at  her  watch  as  they 
stood  together  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  "how  the  morning 
has  flown  !  It  is  after  twelve.  I  shall  be  late  to  lunch. 
What  will  Julie  think  ? " 

"  I  told  her  that  we  might  not  be  able  to  return  by 
twelve,  so  she  will  not  be  wondering  at  all  about  us,"  said 
Philip,  who  was  tying  Prince  to  a  sapling.  "  You  know  it 
was  nearly  eleven  when  we  started,"  he  added. 

"Just  half-past  ten,  I  believe,  Mr.  Farnham,"  said 
Mahala,  looking  at  him  with  a  wicked  smile.  "  But  as 
Julie  does  not  expect  me  I  do  not  mind.  It  has  been  such  a 
delightful  ride,  and  I  am  not  hungry;  that  is,  not  very 
hungry."  Then,  apologetically,  "  Isn't  it  dreadful  to  have 
such  an  appetite  ? " 

"  Yes,  it  is — awful ! "  said  Philip,  with  an  upward  glance 
of  the  eye  and  an  exaggerated  sigh.  "  However,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  I  don't  mind  telling  you  in  confidence,  that  I  am 
ravenously  hungry — famished.  My  craving  for  food  is 
something  alarming.  I  believe  I  could  eat  a  raw  turnip  if 
I  had  one."  He  looked  around. 

"  A  turnip  is  pretty  good,"  said  Mahala.  "  Is  there  no 
field  near,  I  wonder  ? " 

"Are  you  really  hungry?"  inquired  Philip,  rising  from 
the  stump  of  a  tree  on  which  he  had  rested. 

"  Awfully  ! "  replied  Mahala. 

"  Good  ! "  said  Philip.  "I  see  a  basket  behind  that  rock. 
I  will  investigate  its  contents." 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  2^ £ 

And  to  Mahala's  surprise  he  brought  up  a  covered  basket 
and  proceeded  to  open  it. 

"But,  Mr.  Farnham,"  she  remonstrated,  objecting  to 
such  a  confiscation  of  the  find,  "  it  is  not  ours.  We  must 
not  take — " 

"  It  is  no  one  else's,"  replied  Philip,  stoutly,  as  he  drew 
forth  a  large  bottle  of  milk  with  a  glass  on  the  head  of  it. 
Next  came  a  paper  of  butter  crackers.  Then  came  a  box 
of  guava  jelly,  two  lemons  and  a  box  of  sardines,  and  at 
last  some  rosy-cheeked  apples. 

Mahala  was  astounded.  4"  I  will  not  touch  one  morsel," 
she  declared,  "until  you  tell  me  where  this  all  came  from. 
Are  you  a  fairy  to  summon  such  a  feast  with  your  wand  ? 
No,  these  things  are  too  material.  How  did  they  come 
here  ?  Please  tell  me,  so  I  can  eat  something." 

Philip  had  opened  the  box  of  sardines,  and,  carefully 
wiping  his  knife  upon  a  fresh  green  leaf,  which  he  plucked 
from  a  bough  overhead,  he  dexterously  placed  one  of  the 
small  fish  upon  a  cracker.  Then  cutting  a  lemon  in  half, 
he  tore  a  small  bit  of  paper  for  a  plate,  and  placing  the 
viands  upon  it  he  extended  them  to  her  with  great  cere- 
mony. Without  seeming  to  hear  her  entreaty,  he  un- 
corked the  bottle  and  poured  out  a  glassful  of  rich  foaming 
milk. 

"  Please  tell  me  where  these  goodies  came  from,"  pleaded 
Mahala,  again.     "  I  am  nearly  starved  I  " 

"You  should  not  have  questioned  my  honesty,  Miss 
Wright,"  said  Philip,  with  great  dignity. 

"  Well,  I  never  will,  again,"  said  she,  penitently ;  "  I  did 
not  mean  to,  only  I  was  so  surprised." 


236  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"Well  then,  eat,  fair  maid!  Did  you  not  see  the  gro- 
cery boy,  who  passed  us  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  the  im- 
pudent wink  he  gave  me  as  he  went  by  ? "  said  Philip,  in- 
tent upon  fishing  out  another  sardine. 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  answered  Mahala,  "  and  thought  him  ex- 
ceedingly facetious,  not  to  say  familiar.  But  what  of  that  ? 
I  am  very  obtuse." 

"  What  of  that  ?  Why,  I  ordered  these  things  when  I 
went  into  the  store.  I  often  order  a  sausage  and  a  loaf  of 
brown  bread  left  here  when  I  am  out  gunning.  There's 
nothing  like  that  to  tramp  upon.  I  mean,  to  stand  by  a 
man.  But  on  account  of  the  expected  presence  of  a  lady 
at  the  feast,  I  ordered  a  more  delicate  menu.  Now,  what 
have  you  to  say  ? "  cried  Philip,  as  he  squeezed  the  lemon 
over  his  fish. 

"  I  say,  this  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  surprises  of 
my  life,"  answered  Mahala,  looking  at  him  in  undisguised 
enjoyment.  "  Nothing  could  be  more  appropriate  and 
thoughtful.  I  should  have  been  a  little  unhappy  in  half  an 
hour  more."  "  But,"  she  stopped  drinking  her  milk,  "  How 
shockingly  prosaic  ! "  She  took  another  sip,  and  looked 
askance  over  the  edge  of  the  glass.  Then,  as  she  looked 
around,  "  In  full  view,  too,  of  this  perfect  landscape  !  With 
the  lovely  river  and  the  green  fields  beyond,  the  deepening 
tinge  of  the  dying  foliage,  through  the  whole  gamut  of  color, 
from  bright  crimson  to  the  brown,  sere  leaf.  The  blue 
water  to  the  south,  the  sunlight  on  the  winding  roads  by 
forest,  and  stream,  and — " 

"If  you  don't  need  that  tumbler  to  gesticulate  with, 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  237 

Miss  Wright,"  said  Philip,  with  an  injured  air,  "I  would 
like  some  milk.  I  have  not  had  a  drop !" 

"  Why,  that  is  too  bad.  You  shall  have  some  at  once," 
and  Mahala,  discontinuing  her  eloquence,  poured  out  a 
brimming  glass. 

"This  guava  jelly  is  delicious  for  dessert,"  she  said, 
opening  the  paper  box.  "  No,  that  knife  will  taste  fishy." 
She  shook  her  head  as  he  gave  it  an  additional  rub,  and 
extended  it  to  her.  , 

"  You  may  wipe,  you  may  polish  the  knife  if  you  will, 
but  the  scent  of  the  sardines  will  hang  'round  it  still. 
My  fruit-knife  is  clean,"  and  she  took  a  small  silver  knife 
from  her  pocket,  looking  demurely  at  Mr.  Farnham,  who 
leaned  faintly  against  a  tree,  but  failed  to  excite  remorse 
for  her  shocking  parody,  as  his  mouth  was  full,  and  his 
facial  expression  consequently  not  a  success. 

And  so  they  chatted,  and  laughed,  and  gibed,  for  half  an 
hour.  The  only  shocking  thing  about  this  picnic,  to  us 
veracious  chroniclers,  is  the  fact  that  they  had  known  each 
other  less  than  a  week.  But  the  truth  must  be  told  at  all 
hazards. 

"  Poor  old  Prince  must  have  some  lunch,"  said  Mahala 
(when  they  had  eaten  an  amount  which  would  not  be  speci- 
fied here  for  anything),  dividing  some  apples  into  small 
pieces  with  her  knife. 

Philip  sat  idly  watching  her  as  she  fed  his  horse  with 
the  fruit.  How  deftly  she  used  her  hands.  It  was  one  of 
Philip's  theories  that  the  use  and  action  of  the  hands  was 
a  clear  index  to  one's  capabilities,  mental  as  well  as  me- 
chanical. How  Prince  enjoyed  the  touch  of  the  caressing 


238  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

fingers,  as  they  gently  smoothed  over  his  eyes,  and  picked 
out  his  forelock. 

"There,  old  boy,"  she  said,  patting  his  neck  hard,  under 
his  mane.  "  They're  all  gone  !  Aren't  you  much  obliged, 
eh  ?"  And  she  took  his  soft  nose  into  both  hands  as  she 
looked  into  his  handsome  face.  "  All  right !  I  know  you 
are !  "  and  she  returned  to  the  flat  rock  and  began  to  pick 
up  things. 

Crumpling  up  the  paper  wrappers,  she  said,  "  It  is  one 
of  the  beauties  of  dining  like  this,  that  washing  dishes  is 
so  very  easy." 

"Yes,"  answered  Philip,  "I  will  help  you  clear  off  the 
table ;"  saying  which  he  seized  the  empty  tin,  and  threw  it 
far  away  into  the  woods.  "The  silver,  I  see,  you  have 
taken  care  of.  The  cut-glass  I  will  return  to  the  basket  " 
Putting  the  empty  bottle  into  the  basket,  he  placed  it  in 
its  niche  in  the  rock.  "  Sykes  will  take  it  on  his  return,"' 
he  said,  wiping  his  hands  on  his  handkerchief.  "  And 
now,  as  I  don't  see  but  our  housework  is  all  done  up,  we 
can  enjoy  the  scenery  before  we  return.  I  want  you  to 
notice  that  line  of  elms,"  said  he,  standing  by  her  side,, 
and  pointing  up  the  river.  "  See  how  their  interlacing 
branches  form  a  perfect  gothic  arch  over  the  street  they 
border.  Nothing  more  beautiful  than  natural  forms  has 
ever  been  introduced  into  architecture.  Every  effort  of 
man,  in  this  as  in  every  other  branch  of  art,  is  but  an  imi- 
tation of,  or  design  formed  upon,  nature's  original  plan." 

"Yes,  I  remember,"  said  Mahala,  "that  the  capital  of 
the  Corinthian  column  is  only  the  working  out  of  an  idea 
drawn  by  a  monk  from  a  large  flower-pot,  with  a  square 


PHILIPS  DAY.  2  3D 

board  lying  on  top.  It  had  been  set  upon  a  plant  whose 
leaves,  struggling  out  from  under  its  almost  crushing 
weight,  grew  up  against  its  side,  much  as  we  see  them  in 
the  conventionalized  form." 

"  Some  one  has  compared  architecture  to  petrified  mu- 
sic. I  never  could  quite  see  the  force  of  the  comparison. 
Can  you  ? "  said  Philip,  anxious  to  bring  out  her  girlish 
thoughts  upon  any  subject. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see  what  he  meant,"  Mahala  replied,  ("  if  it 
was  a  '  he.'  I  never  spoil  a  bright  idea  by  looking  up  its 
author.)  I  have  seen  churches  that  were  as  grand  an- 
thems with  the  theme  ever  repeated,  coming  again  and 
again,  in  modified  or  more  ornate  form,  rising  from  the 
heavy  chords  of  the  massive  pillars  at  the  base,  to  the 
lighter  and  sweeter  thoughts  as  the  creation  progressed. 
These  solemn  old-fashioned  dwelling-houses,  with  a  row  of 
columns  across  the  front,  look  to  me  like  a  poor  attempt 
at  a  funeral  march,  by  an  incompetent  composer.  An 
imposing  idea,  thinly  carried  out.  Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 
she  asked,  turning  to  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  if  you  say  so,"  cried  Philip  ;  "  I  have  seen  cosy 
houses  which  in  their  very  air  were  a  perfect  embodiment 
of  '  Home,  Sweet  Home.'  But  in  that  one  thinks  more  of 
the  words  than  the  music." 

"Yes,"  said  Mahala,  drawing  up  her  forehead,  in  a  little 
thoughtful  frown,  "  but  I  think  that  was  hardly  the  idea  we 
commenced  upon.  It  is  form,  rather  than  sentiment,  that 
makes  architecture  and  music  comparable." 

"Oh,  I  see  it  now/'  said  Philip,  who  had  seen  it  all  the 
time;  "you  would  consider  that  little  three-pointed  house 
over  there  as  the  first  bar  of  a  waltz." 


2AQ  WHEELS'  ANJ>  WHIMS, 

"  Perhaps,"  she  answered,  laughing,  "  and  some  of  those 
modern  houses  which  are  a  confusion  of  dormers  and  steep 
roofs,  inexplicable  windows  and  inexcusable  juts,  like  one 
of  Chopin's  intensest  emotions,  or  a  jig  played  out  of 
time."  Then,  with  one  of  her  swiftly-changing  expres- 
sions which  were  such  a  fascination  to  him,  "  Is  not  all 
purely  aesthetic  architectural  construction  symbolical  of 
moods  based  on  nature's  forms  ?  "  said  Mahala,  with  intro- 
spective vision,  as  her  dilated  eye  rested  on  the  ether  of 
distant  hills.  "  Now,  surely  we  have  exhausted  this  sub- 
ject ;  had  we  not  better  start  for  home  ? "  said  Miss 
Wright,  as  she  drew  on  her  gloves,  and,  taking  out  a 
little  hook,  proceeded  to  button  them. 

"  A  sensible  suggestion,"  said  Philip,  "  but  one  I  have 
no  particular  sympathy  with.  Oh,  if  these  pleasant  hours 
would  not  pass  !  Can't  we  make  the  sun  stand  still,  yet  a 
few  hours  I " 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  Mahala  rejoined,  practically;  "there 
is  but  one  instance  on  record,  I  believe,  where  it  has  stop- 
ped its  course  at  the  command  of  a  mortal.  And,  although 
Joshua  flattered  himself  that  he  had  done  it,  I  hear  that 
skeptical  scientists  now  question  the  fact,  deciding  that 
his  quadrant  may  have  been  at  fault." 

"  It  has  been  such  a  happy  day,  to  me,  though,"  said 
Philip,  as  he  started  for  his  horse  and  Mahala  took  her 
seat  on  the  tricycle.  "  I  almost  dislike  to  return  to  com- 
mon living.  I  begin  to  have  a  strange  reluctance,  too,  to 
go  to  New  York  next  week,"  admitted  the  young  man,  as 
they  rode  slowly  down  the  hill. 

"  Of  course  you  will  dread  the  parting  with  your  parents 


WV  \ill\lfi  MHilUti 


FILLIP'S  DAY.  ,  243 

more  each  year  as  they  grow  older,  and  your  father  not 
strong,  too,"  said  Mahala,  in  sympathetic  tones. 

"  Yes,  that  must  be  it,"  said  Philip.  "  Of  course  that  is 
it,  though  I  never  thought  of  it  before." 

The  October  sun  grew  almost  unpleasantly  warm  for 
Mahala,  as  they  rode  along  the  homeward  way.  They 
were  nearing  the  town,  when  Philip  said,  almost  with  a 
sigh  :  "  But  my  rooms  in  New  York  will  seem  so  lonely 
now.  I  have  rather  a  nice  place,  too.  But  to  eat  at  a  club 
with  a  dozen  fellows  you  may  like  or  not;  to  return  to 
lonely  rooms  at  night,  and  sit  reading  or  cogitating,  still 
alone,  unless  some  acquaintance  drops  in,  or  I  go  out  to  a 
fashionable,  joyless' crush,  called  a  reception  ;  or  perchance 
to  the  theatre,  then  to  return,  still  alone — you  see  I  don't 
smoke;  somehow,  I  never  could  adopt  the  'filthy  weed/ 
however  consoling  it  may  be.  Still,  I  have  always  been 
content  with  my  bachelor  way  of  living,  until  now." 

Mahala,  who  had  listened  so  attentively  as  to  encourage 
his  confidences,  now  looked  up  with  an  idea  for  his  relief. 
"  Why  don't  you  buy  a  dog  ? "  she  said.  "  We  have  a  friend 
who  has  a  beautiful  Gordon  setter,  that  is  a  perfect  treas- 
ure to  him.  He  calls  her  '  Lady.'  She — " 

Philip  recoiled,  as  from  a  blow  in  the  face,  uttered  a 
quick  word,  which  surely  the  recording  angel  mercifully 
feigned  not  to  hear.  He  gave  Prince  a  stinging  cut  and 
dashed  ahead  so  fiercely,  as  to  frighten  Mahala  out  of  her 
further  remarks.  The  incomprehensible  girl  looked  con- 
fused, entreating,  as  she  came  up  to  where  he  waited  in 
cold  politeness  for  her. 

No  more  laughing  now.  No  merry  gibes  or  innocent 
mirth. 


244  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

They  were  not  far  from  home  when  Mahala  made  her 
unfortunate  remark,  and  Mr.  Farnham,  dismounting  with 
severe  courtesy,  stood  hat  in  hand,  to  assist  her  from  her 
wheels  at  the  gate.  But  now,  burning  with  mortification 
and  unhappiness,  knowing  that  he  was  angry,  and  she  had 
made  him  so,  she  commanded  her  face  with  difficulty,  and 
saying,  "  Good  day,"  she  pedalled  swiftly  in  at  the  double 
gate,  and  he  rode  away,  without  a  word  or  a  look  at  the 
house. 

How  changed  was  the  face  of  all  nature !  Where  all 
had  been  bright  and  joyous,  with  the  clearness  and  spark- 
ling stimulus  of  delicious  champagne,  it  was  now  cold, 
drear,  in  spite  of  the  sunshine.  He  was  benumbed, — 
wounded  to  the  heart.  He  felt  a  dull  indignation  that  she 
should  be  so  unkind, — yes,  frivolous.  It  was  hard  and  in- 
sulting !  No  woman  worthy  of  a  thought  would  so  dis- 
regard respectful  sentiment !  Gad  !  He  had  been  sold 
out, — margin  gone,  investment  a  failure  !  And  at  his  age ! 
A  fine  birthday,  this  ! 

To  confess  to  a  girl  that  he  was  lonely,  in  his  privileged 
situation  in  the  world,  to  expose  the  throbbings  of  his 
proud  heart,  when  just  on  the  point  of  craving  her  dear 
love,  with  reasonable  confidence  of  success  in  winning  it, 
then,  then,  at  this  supreme  moment  of  a  wildly  joyous  day, 
to  be  advised  to  buy  a  d —  Hell  and  furies  !  He  would 
not,  he  could  not  think  of  it !  He  was  never  so  in- 
sulted ! 

He  gave  Prince  a  cut  with  his  cane,  and  tore  along  the 
way  in  a  frantic  desire  to  get  away  from  it — from  himself. 
Scowling,  with  grinding  teeth  and  a  dark  flush  which 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  24$ 

mounted  to  his  hair  and  extended  to  his  neck,  he  rode  up 
hill  and  down. 

Philip  Farnham  was  in  a  passion.  Who  can  blame 
him  ? 

At  last,  finding  himself  some  miles  from  home,  up  the 
river,  he  drew  the  rein  and  slowly  turned  about.  How 
could  she  have  done  it ! — she,  so  loving  and  merciful,  even 
to  beasts  and  insects.  Could  she  have  intended  to  treat 
him  so  badly  ?  There  was  no  provocation  for  a  deliberate 
insult.  Was  it  merely  a  girlish  misapprehension  of  his 
feelings  ?  Perhaps  a  feminine  defense  against  what  she  felt 
might  follow !  Or  perhaps  she,  so  fancy  free,  so  artless  in 
her  frank  friendship,  had  not  dreamed  of  such  possibilities 
for  herself.  She  was  such  a  child,  no  thought  of  love  had 
come  over  her  innocent  heart.  It  was  ;  yes,  he  knew  it 
was  merely  a  piquant  retort !  Or  she  was  so  fond  of  ani- 
mals, she  might  have  been  sincere  in  suggesting  a  canine 
companion  for  his  lonely  hours.  Here  he  laughed  aloud. 
What  a  farce !  Then,  how  rude  he  must  have  seemed. 
Why,  what  a  hot-headed  fool  he  was  to  leave  her  so  !  She 
must  be  puzzled,  perhaps  hurt,  by  his  hasty  actions.  He 
could  judge  of  that  at  the  party,  at  any  rate.  Only  three 
o'clock,  Five  hours  to  wait ! 

Prince  was  walking  quietly  along.  Philip  took  his 
handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and  wiped  his  perspiring 
forehead. 

"Too,  toot." 

He  turned  quickly  around. 

"  Hullo  !  Kupfer,  old  boy,  how  are  you  ?  Don't  you 
know  me,  Kupfer?" 


24g  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  Und  Gold  ! M  Philip  cried,  with  pleasure  and  astonish- 
ment in  his  face. 

The  young  man  on  the  bicycle  which  had  overtaken 
him  jumped  nimbly  to  the  ground,  and  came  wheeling  his 
machine  with  hand  extended  to  Philip,  who  sprang  from 
his  horse's  back  to  meet  him. 

"Where  did  you  come  from  ?  Did  you  drop  from  the 
skies  ? "  exclaimed  Philip,  in  wonderment,  as  they  clasped 
hands,  with  great  heartiness  and  unalloyed  pleasure  at  the 
meeting.  • 

"  Well,"  answered  the  other,  "  I  did  not  exactly  drop, 
though  I  got  it  on  you,  as  I  knew  your  back.  The  fact 
is,"  he  said,  looking  down  and  kicking  a  stone  out  of  the 
road,  "  I  got  a  little  down  in  the  mouth,  and  the  doctor 
sent  me  away  from  the  bank  for  a  few  weeks.  As  he  in- 
sisted upon  out-of-door  exercise,  I  decided  I  would  take  a 
run  on  my  wheel.  I  thought  of  you,  when  I  was  up  the 
river  a  ways,  and  was  going  to  inquire  for  your  place, 
thinking  you  might  possibly  be  home  for  the  shooting. 
And  so,  here  we  are." 

"And  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  chum,"  said  Philip. 
"Now,  you  will  come  right  home  with  me,  and  stay  over 
Sunday." 

"  All  right,  if  it  is  convenient  for  you.  I  must  warn 
you  I  am  getting  to  be  a  tremendous  feeder  since  I  quit 
home  and  live  out  of  doors.  Nothing  like  it,  is  there  ?  " 

So,  taking  to  horse  and  wheel,  they  rode  along  the  se- 
questered roads. 

Pretty  soon  Philip  remarked,  "  Plummer,  have  n't  you 
grown  thin  ?  Not  in  love,  -I  hope.  By  the  way,  I  met  one 


PHILIP'S  DAY.  2A7 

•of  those  Weaver  girls  who  used  to  be  so  fond  of  us  at 
New  Haven,  in  at  the  Windsor,  the  other  day.  Lord,  how 
old  she  looked!  I  knew  they  had  taken  several  classes 
along,  before  we  came  upon  the  stage,  but  I  had  no 
idea  they  were  so  antiquated.  Great  business,  is  n't  it, 
these  girls  petting  the  students  ?  Fun  for  the  boys,  but 
death  to  them,  socially." 

"  Phil,  do  you  know,  I  feel  old  !  Out  of  college  seven 
years,  and  tired  of  germans,  yet  without  a  wife,  and  living 
in  rooms.  Heigh-ho !  Well,  what 's  the  news  ? " 

"  I  heard  you  were  engaged  to  a  beautiful  girl,  Felix. 
Your  prospects,  then,  are  promising." 

"  Y-yes,  I  am,  or  rather,  I  was.  Kupfer,  old  chap,  I  am 
in  trouble."  He  then  told  his  tried  friend  of  the  circum- 
stances which  opened  this  narrative,  but  did  not  mention 
the  name  of  his  fiancee.  "  And  so,  she  disappeared  from 
town,  leaving  no  clue.  Knowing  her  pride  as  I  do,  I  fear 
I  shall  never  regain  my  old  place  in  her  affections.  I 
flew  around  several  days,  making  such  inquiries  as  I  could 
without  giving  my  own  desertion  away  to  a  set  of  curious 
friends.  After  a  week  of  misery  and  unavailing  search, 
I  met  a  boy,  Harry  Dwinell,  who  told  me  he  saw  a  party 
of  ladies  on  tricycles —  " 

"The  devil !" 

"  What 's  the  matter  ? " 

"  Nothing,  go  on." 

"  Who  were  on  the  road  to  the  colleges.  I  blessed  him 
and  continued  inquiries,  out  in  that  section.  No  one  had 
seen  them.  Harry  came  to  me  the  next  day,  and  told  me 
they  had  gone  down  the  river,  on  a  sketching  tour,  chape- 


2^8  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

roned  by  Mrs.  F.  W.  Mather.  I  rushed  for  Mather,  to  see 
if  she  was  among  them,  but  he  was  off  hunting.  So  I 
have  followed  them,  sometimes  losing  the  trail  and  going 
miles  out  of  the  way  (they  don't  seem  to  keep  to  the  main 
road),  and  at  Haddam  I  lost  them.  I  cannot  get  the  slight- 
est trace  of  the  party  anywhere.  And  if  I  should  it  is 
doubtful  if  she  is  one  of  them,  anyway.  I  am  about  dis- 
couraged." He  looked  mournful,  and  pulled  his  blonde 
mustache  in  despair. 

Philip  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Felix,"  he  said,  "  they  are  here." 

"  Here  ?  Where  ? "  The  warm  blood  rushed  over  the 
lover's  face. 

"  In  Essex.     I  have  met  them." 

"  You  have  met  them,"  echoed  Felix,  looking  at  his 
friend  with  a  queer  expression  in  his  face.  "  How  should 
you  meet  them  ?  Was  orfe  of  them,"  he  asked  eagerly, 
"  a  lovely  girl  with  dark  hair  and  beautiful  eyes  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Philip  Farnham,  with  a  sinking  heart. 

"  Has  she  a  slender,  graceful  figure  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Philip,  again. 

"Has  she  the  most  refined  face,  the  most  delicate  hands, 
the  most  queenly  carriage  and  the  sweetest  voice  in  the 
world  ? " 

"Yes."  Philip  forgot  Mahala's  irregular  nose,  which 
would  be  better  termed  cunning  than  elegant. 

"  Then  I  have  found  her,  at  last ! "  exclaimed  Felix,  in 
boundless  joy. 

Philip  was  overpowered  with  a  jealousy  which  he  tried 
manfully  to  smother,  but  failed.  He  almost  hated  his. 


PHILIPS  DAY.  249 

friend.  Plummer  had  won  a  prize  away  from  him  at 
Yale,  and  now — 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  to  find  her  ?"  the  impetuous 
lover  exclaimed.  "  If  I  can  once  get  a  look  into  Margery's 
eyes — "  he  began  to  say. 

"  Margery  !     Miss  Prescott  ? " 

"  Why,  certainly.  Who  else  ? "  demanded  Felix,  regard- 
ing his  friend  with  surprise. 

Philip  reached  over  and  seized  his  hand,  shaking  it 
warmly,  to  the  imminent  danger  of  throwing  the  bicyclist 
off  his  balance. 

"  Why,  yes,  indeed,  who  else  ?  I  congratulate  you,  old 
chum  !  I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  say  so !  I  am  sure 
you  will  be  able  to  make  it  up  with  her.  She  is  a  beauti- 
ful girl,  and  every  way  worthy  of  you !  " 

Felix  looked  at  Philip  in  some  wonderment  at  his  sud- 
den access  of  enthusiasm,  but,  blinded  by  his  own  eager- 
ness to  see  his  lost  love,  soon  forgot  a  glimmering  suspicion 
that  Farnham  might  be  in  love  with  her  himself,  and  was 
feigning  this  effusive  gladness.  He  thought  at  first  that 
Kupfer  was  probably  smitten  with  Margery  and  trying  to- 
supplant  him  in  her  affections. 

Then  Philip  told  him  who  the  party  were  ;  how  he  had 
happened  to  meet  them ;  that  his  mother  had  called  upon 
them,  and  that  they  were  coming  to  the  Farnham  house 
that  evening  to  a  small  party. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  Philip  could  restrain  Felix 
from  immediately  turning  about  then  and  there  and  flying 
to  Mr.  Stearns's  house.  But  his  friend  reminded  him  that 
he  was  not  sure  of  a  cordial  reception,  and  that  a  surprise 


250  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

which  he  would  manage  for  him  would  throw  Miss  Prescott 
off  her  proud  reserve,  and  prove  at  once  to  her  lover 
whether  she  had  forgiven  him  in  her  heart. 

She  might  take  a  whim  to  uphold  her  outraged  dignity 
before  the  others,  he  was  warned,  so  Felix  held  his  panting 
impatience  in  check  and  was  kindly  welcomed  to  dinner 
by  Mrs.  Farnham. 

As  for  Philip,  a  complete  revulsion  of  feeling  had  come 
over  him  and  he  wished  the  time  away  until  the  guests 
should  arrive,  and  he  have  an  opportunity  to  tell  her — 
should  he  tell  it  all  ?  If  he  could  only  find  her  in  one  of 
her  less  mischievous  moods !  One  might  as  well  try  to 
force  a  kitten  to  pose  for  a  picture,  as  to  make  her  listen  to 
love  when  she  was  in  one  of  her  merry  trains. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


TVJOT  coming  !"  repeated  Philip,  as  with  bare  head  he 
-i-  ^i 


Jo 

** 

stepped  down  to  the  carriage  to  hand  out  the  ladies 
who  had  just  arrived  from  Mr.  Stearns'  s.  "Not  coming  !" 
again  said  he,  as  Miss  St.  John  assured  him  it  was  no  mis- 
take, and  that  her  niece  was  not  feeling  well. 

His  heart  fell  within  him.  He  had  come  forth  with 
such  abounding  joy  at  the  thought  of  touching  her 
hand  again,  that  the  disappointment  was  all  the  more  in- 
tense. He  saw  Miss  St.  John  did  not  think  it  of  much 
importance,  and  had  already  passed  within,  greeting  the 
old  gentleman,  his  father. 

Margery  was  gathering  up  her  flowing  skirts  and  mount- 
ing to  receive  the  warm  welcome 

Seeing  a  look  of  sympathy  in  Mrs.  Mather's  sweet  face, 
"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked,  in  under  breath,  as  she  gave  him 
her  hand  and  they  went  together  up  the  stone  steps  to  the 
door. 

"  Well,  if  it  is  not  the  capriciousness  of  feminine  in- 
stinct in  general,  in  this  instance  it  is,  that  she  is  quite 
ashamed  of  herself  and  mortified  at  the  effect  of  her  con- 

(25O 


2  52  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

duct  this  morning.  She  gave  me  an  account  of  your  ride, 
said  you  left  her  offended,  but  professed  she  did  not  un- 
derstand why.  I  never  inquire  closely  into  another's 
affairs,  and  therefore  fail  to  understand  why  she  would 
listen  to  no  reason  about  it.  She  determined  from  the 
outset  not  to  be  present  here  this  evening,  nor  to  appear 
again  to  you.  At  this  moment,  I  dare  say,  she  is  packing 
the  trunk  with  her  things,  so  there  may  be  no  excuse  for 
detention  as  soon  as  the  hour  for  departure  arrives." 

"  Departure !  Oh,  don't  speak  of  it,  Mrs.  Mather.  How 
can  I  bear  this  !  "  As  he  detained  her  and  hurried  off  his 
words,  he  passed  his  hand  nervously  across  his  face. 

"  Is  it  so  ? "  she  said  gently,  with  a  comprehensive  look, 
which  brought  a  low  exclamation  from  him. 

"  I  must,  I  shall  see  her  again  !  Pardon  me,  I  will  go 
for  her !  I  shall  not  be  missed.  Say  not  a  word.  I  will 
make  an  excuse,  and — "  Mrs.  Mather  passed  on  to  the 
dressing-room,  glad  to  find  her  detention  had  not  been 
noticed. 

Margery  was  putting  the  little  finishing  touches  to  her 
incomparable  toilet.  Miss  St.  John  was  giving  her  ener- 
gies to  a  pair  of  lovely,  tinted  kids,  which  were  all  but  too 
snug. 

Philip  strode  to  his  mother's  side,  who  was  smiling 
sweetly  as  their  minister,  who  had  arrived  among  the  first 
(a  clergyman  of  some  years'  residence  among  the  people  of 
Essex),  was  presenting  his  young  half-sister,  who  had  come 
to  pass  the  winter  at  the  parsonage,  and  whom  he  now 
introduced  for  the  first  time  to  the  society  of  the  place. 
He  was  assuring  his  hostess  that  he  was  rejoiced  to  accept 


COMING   TO   THE  PARTY.  2$$ 

so  pleasant  an  opportunity  to  present  his  young  relative  to 
his  friends. 

"  We  are  happy  indeed,  Mr.  Butterfield,  in  this  acquisi- 
tion to  our  company.  You  are  truly  welcome,  my  dear," 
she  said,  turning  to  the  young  stranger,  whose  sparkling 
eye  gave  double  value  to  the  quiet  "  Thank  you." 

Then  turning  to  the  clergyman,  Mrs.  Farnham  said, 
cordially,  "  I  am  more  than  glad  to  see  you  here  to-night, 
sir,  because — " 

"  You  thought,  being  Saturday,  that  a  minister  might 
not  care  to  be  out,  but,"  he  said,  smiling  genially,  "birth- 
days must  be  attended  to,  and  we  shall  close  our  festivities 
at  an  early  hour.  I  would  not  miss  welcoming  in  Philip's 
next  year,  for  a  great  deal." 

"  I  must  present  my  son  to  you,  Miss  Butterfield ;  and 
father,  where  is  he  ? "  she  added,  casting  her  eyes  about 
the  rooms. 

"  I  spoke  with  him,  in  the  hall,  just  now,"  answered  the 
minister.  "  He  said  he  would  return  here  in  a  moment." 

Philip  entered  with  such  rapid  movement,  and  his  hasty 
words  were  so  quickly  spoken  that  his  mother  found  no 
time  to  detain  him  for  an  introduction  to  the  stranger. 

"  I  shall  be  back  in  a  moment,  mother.  Something 
requires  my  attention  outside."  He  whirled  away  and 
was  at  the  stable  before  his  mother  could  arrange  her  sen- 
tence of  inquiry.  It  was  so. seldom  that  her  son  was  dis- 
turbed from  his  deliberate  composure,  and  so  rarely  excited 
to  any  hasty  action,  that  she  presumed  some  stupidity  on 
the  part  of  those  preparing  the  entertainment  had  come  to 
his  knowledge  and  he  was  of  necessity  called  to  correct  it. 


254  HEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

Philip  was  shortly  at  the  gate  of  Mr.  Stearns's  house. 
He  dropped  the  lines,  and  sprang  from  the  buggy.  "  How 
fortunate  Tom's  team  was  there  ready !  I  shall  make  it 
right  with  him,"  said  he,  as  he  fastened  the  horse. 

After  the  friends  had  gone  from  the  house,  and  left 
Mahala  alone,  the  house-keeper  concluded  to  visit  a  sick 
neighbor,  whom  she  frequently  waited  upon.  She  asked 
Miss  Wright  to  excuse  her  for  half  an  hour.  The  front 
door  she  left  unlocked,  for  as  she  stepped  out  she  said,  "  I 
will  be  back  in  a  few  minutes,  Miss  Wright.  You  need 
not  fear  anyone's  coming.  No  one  is  apt  to  come  in  of  an 
evening  here,  unless  to  borrow  the  paper  or  to  see  Mr. 
Stearns  on  business,  and  it  is  too  late  for  that  now." 

As  Mahala  sat  by  the  open  fireplace,  where  a  bright 
burning  log  lay,  now  smoking,  now  blazing,  for  want  of 
something  to  do  she  had  turned  it  over  two  or  three  times. 
She  felt  such  perfect  wretchedness  at  being^  left  alone,  and 
an  utter  despair  of  bettering  the  situation  by  going  over 
and  over  it  in  her  mind.  As  she  sat,  bending  towards  the 
fire,  with  the  old-fashioned  brass-headed  tongs  in  her  hand, 
half  admiring  their  glitter,  half  watching  the  blaze,  but  un- 
der all,  depressed  and  miserable,  she  heard  the  quick  roll 
of  the  carriage,  the  step  of  the  horse.  She  dropped  the 
tongs.  She  started  to  her  feet.  She  felt  unprotected. 
She  clasped  her  hands  together  tightly.  Standing  midway 
between  the  fire  and  door,  she  listened.  She  could  hear 
her  own  heart-beats.  Steps  she  heard — quick  steps. 
What  should  she  do?  Turn  out  the  lights?  Oh,  that 
those  shades  were  down  !  How  foolish ! — perhaps  the 
man  had  returned  for  something  the  girls  had  forgotten. 


COMING   TO   THE  PARTY.  255 

Yes,  what  a  silly  thing  she  was!  Goodness,  how  her 
heart  beat !  Since  that  horrid  Irishman  attacked  them  in 
the  woods  she  trembled  at  every  sound. 

There  was  a  knock.  She  must  go,  then.  She  had  sat 
there  regardless  of  the  undrawn  curtain.  Philip  had  seen 
her  as  he  stepped  quickly  along  the  piazza..  He  saw  she 
was  alone.  Before  she  had  reached  the  door,  his  hand  was 
on  the  knob.  Without  thinking  he  might  alarm  her,  he 
opened  the  door.  She  started  back  in  fear.  Then,  as  he 
came  apologetically  forward,  she  gave  a  little  nervous 
laugh.  "  O-ho,"  she  said,  and  burying  her  face  in  her 
hands,  she  turned  half  around  and  dropped  into  a  chair  by 
the  door. 

He  saw  he  had  frightened  her.  Full  of  deep  feeling 
himself,  he  stopped  a  moment,  to  gain  self-possession.  He 
laid  off  his  great  coat,  and  came  forward  rubbing  his 
hands,  for,  with  the  cool  of  the  evening,  and  the  burning 
of  his  brain  and  heart,  they  were  chilled.  He  walked  into 
the  parlor,  closed  the  door,  stood  a  moment  in  silence  be- 
fore the  fire,  acting  mechanically,  thinking  only  of  her. 

This  had  given  time  for  Mahala  to  collect  herself. 
Leaving  her  place  she  came  forward  and  settled  negli- 
gently into  the  easy  rocker,  where  she  had  previously 
been  sitting. 

Each  felt  they  had  a  part  to  play.  Each  meant  to  play 
it  well.  Philip  turned  a  glowing  face  to  her.  "I  have 
come  for  you,"  he  said,  in  deep  undertone. 

Mahala  forgot  the  party,  forgot  her  friends,  forgot  the 
whole  world. 

Philip  stood  before  her.     He  had  come  for  her! 


2c6  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

She  gave  a  little  gasp.  "  Come  for  me  ? "  she  repeated, 
and  then  it  burst  upon  her.  Why,  he  means  to  the  party ! 

"  Oh,  but  I  am  not  ready,"  she  said. 

"  No  ?     But  you  will  get  ready,  will  you  not  ? " 

What  pleading  in  the  voice  and  eye  !  Could  she  resist  ? 
It  was  not  authoritative  either;  if  it  had  been,  she  would 
have  said  "No  "  at  once.  "It  is  impossible." 

He  quietly  stepped  towards  her.  She  arose  looking  full 
into  his  magnetic  eye.  He  reached  out  his  hand.  Hers 
met  it.  For  a  second  they  stood.  There  was  no  premedi- 
tation, it  was  all  spontaneous,  involuntary.  The  peace  was 
made. 

He  laid  his  other  hand  on  hers. 

"Miss  Wright,  we  all  want  you  there.  Will  you  not 
return  with  me  ?  I  will  wait  as  long  as  is  necessary,  but 
I  am  sure  you  will  come." 

Mahala  dropped  her  eyes  under  his  burning  gaze.  He 
seemed  to  be  reading  her  through  and  through. 

What — what  did  this  manner  mean  ? 

"  I  will,"  she  said,  with  a  new  submissiveness. 

A  wave  of  triumphant  feeling  rushed  over  Philip's 
senses.  He  threw  it  off  as  ungenerous.  Deep  love  was 
yearning  in  his  breast. 

"Then,  get  ready,"  he  said,  quietly.  "You  are  beauti- 
ful, now.  You  cannot  array  yourself  more,  in  my  eyes ; 
but  for  others,  perhaps — yes,  for  others,  perhaps,"  he  mur- 
mured as  he  bit  his  nether  lip.  Still  holding  her  little 
hand,  he  touched  his  lips  to  it,  and  put  her  from  him. 
Then,  opening  the  door  to  let  her  pass  out :  "  Go,  now.  I 
will  wait." 


COMING   TO   THE  PARTY  2$? 

"  I  will  not  be  long,"  she  sang  out  joyously,  as  she 
tripped  up  the  stairs,  her  face  all  dimpled  with  smiles. 
*  "So  the  pink  silk  is  not  all  for  naught,"  she  said  in  girl- 
ish ecstacy,  as  she  drew  forth  the  lovely  dress  and  shook 
out  its  sheeny  folds  and  tossed  it  on  the  bed.  "  And  all  I 
planned  has  come  to  naught.  Mais  dieu  dispose, — is  it  not 
always  so?  I  meant  to  be  so  cold  and  indifferent.  I 
meant — oh,  my  hair  will  do  ! "  and  she  turned  about  and 
looked  in  the  glass. 

"I  won't  have  a  flower,  even.  I  will  just  button  up 
this,"  she  said,  as  she  put  on  her  waist.  "  I  won't  stop  to 
dress  my  feet ;  I'll  slip  these  under  my  cloak.  I  can  put 
them  on  when  I  get  there."  She  went  to  the  closet  and 
took  down  her  aunt's  warm  sketching-cloak. 

"  Heavens,  what  will  they  think  of  me  !  How  could  he 
leave?  I  will  not  keep  him  waiting  a  minute  longer! 
Gloves  !  Oh,  dear  !  where's  my  fan,  and  handkerchief  ?  " 

Her  eyes  fell  on  them  the  next  instant,  and  she  caught  at 
some  violet  perfume,  gave  the  bottle  a  little  shake  over 
her  handkerchief,  and  touched  it  to  her  eyes  and  lips 
before  hastily  gathering  up  her  voluminous  draperies  under 
the  friendly  cloak. 

Philip  still  stood,  his  elbow  resting  on  the  mantel,  star- 
ing into  the  smouldering  fire,  the  sputtering  log  every 
now  and  then  giving  a  turn  to  his  vision.  How  differently 
it  had  come  out ! 

"  I  thought  to  appeal,  to  humble  myself,  to  meet  her 
irony —  her  banter, — to  contend,  to  be  baffled,  perhaps,  and 
return  discomfited.     No,  I  did  not  intend  to  allow  myself 
to  be  overcome.     I  came  to  conquer." 
w.  &  w.— 17 


2^3  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

A  crowd  of  thoughts  like  these  rushed  through  his 
brain.  He  seemed  to  have  lived  more  in  this  day  than  in 
all  his  life  before.  Further  he  mused.  "  It  has  seemed  a. 
thing  incredible  to  me,  that  in  love  a  man  will  humiliate 
himself  so  before  the  woman  he  admires.  But  I  could  be 
content  to  sit  at  her  feet  all  the  day.  How  sweet  she  is  \. 
what  music  in  her  very  step  ! 

"  '  She  is  coming,  my  own,  my  sweet. 

Were  it  ever  so  airy  a  tread, 
My  heart  would  hear  her  and  beat — ' " 

Mahala  tripped  down  the  stairway.  The  door  opened, 
and,  .all  muffled  in  cloak,  not  a  vestige  of  the  pink  silk 
showing,  she  was  there  ! 

"  Did  I  keep  you  long  ?  Were  you  getting  all  tired  out 
— worrying  lest  they  should  miss  you  from  the  house  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  was  not  thinking  of  them.  I  was  recalling 
something  from  Tennyson." 

"  Do  you  like  Tennyson  ?  "  she  asked,  as  he  opened  and 
closed  after  her  the  street  door.  His  reply  did  not  reach 
her  as  she  ran  ahead  in  her  excitement  to  jump  into  the 
buggy.  She  almost  stumbled  over  the  quiet  house-keeper, 
who  was  feeling  for  the  gate-latch. 

"  Oh,  "  she  said,  "  I  have  concluded  to  go  to  the  party, 
Mrs.  Bronson.  Good-night." 

"  Did  you  say  you  liked  Tennyson  ? "  said  she,  as  they 
were  fairly  tucked  under  the  blanket,  and  the  horse  going 
at  a  rapid  pace  along  the  dim  road.  "  He  is  the  tonic  that 
I  take  in  regular  doses  at  stated  periods  for  the  health  of 
my  soul,"  and  she  laughed,  low  and  sweet. 

"  In  the  same  way  that  I  go  to  '  Sartor  Resartus,'  I  pre- 


COMING   TO    THE  PARTY.  359 

sume,  in  moments  of  mental  debility,  and  spasmodic  dis- 
taste for  lighter  food,"  answered  Philip.  "  Yes,  I  am  fond 
of  Tennyson,  too.  At  one  period  of  my  callow  youth,  his 
poems  were  my  almost  daily  recreation,  and  I  was  particu- 
larly prone  to  reading  them  aloud  to  lady  friends  during 
college  vacations,  under  shady  trees  or  by  the  seashore, 
you  know.  Although  now  I  am  past  those  boyish  enthusi- 
asms, I  still  retain  a  sincere  admiration  for  the  poet,  and 
I  find  that  many  charming  bits  of  his  inimitable  descrip- 
tions and  sentiments  remain  in  my  memory." 

They  were  nearing  Farnham  House,  when  Philip  said, 
"  By  the  way,  Miss  Wright,  do  you  know  Felix  Plummer 
of  Hartford  ? " 

"Know  Felix?  Well,  I  should  say  I  did!  Felix,  why 
he  is  Margie's  betrothed.  One  of  the  noblest  fellows  in 
the  world ! " 

"  You  may  then,  perhaps,  be  surprised  to  know  that  he 
is  here." 

"  Here  ? " 

"Yes,  in  Essex ;  at  my  house." 

"  Why,  how  came  he  there  ?  Do  you  know  him  ?  How 
delighted  Margie  will  be  to  see  him.  I  did  not  know  that 
she  expected  him." 

Philip,  perceiving  that  she  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
breach  between  the  lovers,  which  Felix  had  cqnfided  to 
him,  merely  spoke  of  their  former  friendship  at  college, 
and  told  her  that  the  meeting  of  the  afternoon  was  totally 
unexpected  to  both  of  them. 

Mahala  had  an  idea  in  her  wise  little  head  that  Margie 


25o  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

would  be  also  surprised  to  see  Mr.  Plummer,  but  kept  her 
own  counsel  on  the  matter. 

"  Here  we  are.  I  will  lead  you  by  a  side-way  up  stairs, 
so  that  no  one  will  notice  that  we  are  late." 

Robert  stepped  to  the  carriage  to  take  the  lines  as  it 
drew  up  to  the  house,  and  Philip  led  her  in  at  the  side- 
gate.  To  a  maid  who  stood  in  the  hall  he  said,  "  Conduct 
Miss  Wright  to  the  dressing-room." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


r  I  ^O  return  to  Margery.  A  tremor  had  passed  through 
i-  her  proud  heart  (now  doubly  wounded  by  the  ap- 
parent indifference  of  her  lover  to  her  conciliating  let- 
ter, which  she  had  written  to  him  with  such  reluctance 
to  abase  her  pride,  yet  unwilling  to  do  injustice  to  him) 
and  had  taken  the  nerve  from  her  grasp  as  she  opened  the 
box  containing  her  white  pongee  silk.  A  tide  of  recollec- 
tions flooded  her  soul  and  caused  her  for  an  instant  to  be- 
come ghastly  pale. 

"  Oh,  if  I  had  not  sent  for  this  one,"  she  said,  in  pain ; 
"  I  could  have  gone  through- it,  with  almost  resignation,  in 
any  other.  But  another  party,  and  wearing  this  !  " 

She  leaned  on  the  foot  of  the  bedstead  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands.  "  It  will  be  the  third  time  I  have 
worn  it.  Oh,  so  happy  the  first  evening.  So  wretchedly 
miserable  the  second  !  How  can  I  put  it  on  again  ! " 

She  dashed  a  tear  from  her  eye,  hearing  the  gay  voice 
of  Mrs.  Mather,  who  ascended  the  stairs  at  that  moment 
to  robe  herself  for  the  evening.  She  turned  from  the 
dress  on  the  bed,  which  seemed  a  ghost  of  dead  hopes,  and 

(26l) 


262  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS 

was  in  the  act  of  loosening  her  heavy  hair  before  the  mir- 
ror, when  her  friend  entered.  Her  averted  face  was  not 
noticed,  or  at  least  not  remarked  on,  as  she  uncoiled  her 
long  tresses.  Proceeding  with  her  toilet,  she  said,  "  Do 
help  me,  Julie  !  This  maze  of  drapery,  somehow,  I  cannot 
manage." 

"  Well,  I  don't  wonder,  my  love,"  said  Julie,  taking  the 
dress  in  hand.  "  You  have  it  all  twisted.  The  right 
side  of  the  overskirt  on  the  wrong  of  the  underskirt." 

"  Nothing  is  really  easy  to  get  into  except  our  wheel- 
suits  and  our  wrappers,"  said  Margery,  trying  to  extricate 
herself  from  the  confusion.  "  I  know  this  is  to  be  fastened 
up  somewhere.  Miss  Fordyce  said  my  maid  would  know, 
but  I  am  sure  I  do  not.  I  always  turn  it  the  wrong  way, 
I  think,"  she  said,  not  sure  of  the  fact,  but  trying  to  get 
some  idea  into  her  mind  except  the  one  that  would  insist 
on  obtruding  itself. 

Once  in  the  dressing-room  at  the  Farnhams'  she  had 
no  time  to  think  of  herself.  The  straggling  groups  which 
they  met  as  they  threaded  their  way  there  foretold  them 
of  an  interesting  evening.  Merry  girls  were  already 
giggling  on  one  side,  while  young  men  were  holding  them- 
selves aloof  in  doorways  and  along  the  hall. 

Some  audible  whispers  made  the  friends  smile,  as  an  ex- 
cited curiosity  could  not  be  withheld. 

"  Tricyclers,"  said  one  little  fellow,  who  had  been  asked 
only  as  companion  to  his  older  sister. 

Mrs.  Mather  smiled  and  nodded  to  him  as  she  passed 
along,  recognizing  the  little  fellow  who  had  one  day  in 
mischief  tried  to  run  a  race  with  them  on  their  wheels, 


THE  PARTY,  2^ 

and  who  ended  his  burst  of  speed  with  a  tumble  in  the 
dust. 

Margery  and  Miss  St.  John  were  at  the  dressing-room 
door  ready  to  descend  to  the  reception  below,  loitering  an 
instant  for  their  companion,  when  a  maid  stepped  quickly 
to  Margery  and  laid  in  her  hand  a  loosely-folded  white 
package.  She  said :  "  A  friend  asks  if  you  will  wear 
these,  miss,"  and  was  gone  before  Margery  could  ask  a 
question.  . 

She  turned  to  Mrs.  Mather,  asking,  "  What  shall  I  do  ? 
Would  you  wear  these  ?" 

"What?" 

"  Why,  these,"  displaying  some  choice  hot-house  roses. 

"  Oh,  how  lovely  !  Wear  them  ?  Of  course.  Just 
what  you  need  to  brighten  up  your  dress,  and  your  cheek, 
too,  my  love,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  a  little  anxiously.  "  Where 
•did  they  come  from  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  I  do  not  know.  Mrs.  Farnham,  perhaps,  sent 
them.  How  very  kind,  was  it  not  ?  Do  help  me  put 
them  somewhere.  Where  shall  it  be  ?  Bouquet  de  cor- 
sage ?  "  said  Margery,  laying  them  against  her  waist. 

"  No,  they  get  so  broken  there."  Here,  let  me,"  and 
Julie  shook  them  loosely  in  her  hold.  Catching  at  some 
of  the  flowing  lace  around  Margery's  neck,  and,  entwining 
a  cluster,  she  fastened  them  with  bewitching  grace  on  the 
left  side. 

"  Just  above  your  heart,  my  dear.  How  lovely  and  fra- 
grant they  are !  Now  your  dress  is  perfect,  and  your- 
self— " 

"  Do  let 's  go,  Julie.  Others  want  to  come  here,"  broke 
in  Margery,  quickly,  and  turned  away. 


264  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  Well,  take  these  in  your  hand,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,, 
gathering  up  the  remaining  roses.  "  Enfold  the  stems  in 
your  handkerchief." 

Mr.  Stearns  awaited  the  trio  at  the  hall-door  and  de- 
scended, leading  Miss  St.  John,  whose  bright,  happy  face 
showed  how  much  she  was  enjoying. 

"  Was  it  not  too  provoking  in  Mike,"  whispered  Mar- 
gery, "not  to  come?" 

Mrs.  Mather  smiled  with  inward  satisfaction. . 

They  soon  made  their  way  to  the  hostess,  and  were  so 
kindly  greeted  with  warm  reception  and  introduction  upon 
all  sides,  that  each  was  soon  lost  to  the  other,  engrossed 
by  the  interest  of  new  acquaintance.  Margery  alone  fell 
into  the  background,  and  soon  wandered  listlessly  into  a 
little  recessed  flower-room,  which  adjoined  the  library. 
There  she  sat,  alone  and  sad,  in  a  low  chair,  with  the  flow- 
ing train  of  her  creamy  dress  lying  upon  the  floor  at  her 
side.  She  slowly  opened  and  shut  her  fan,  as  she  looked 
with  dreaming  eyes  before  her.  She  let  her  hands  drop 
into  her  lap.  It  was  too  much.  She  could  not  bear  it. 
If  she  could  but  get  away.  Somewhere.  She  looked 
around  despairingly,  and  —  "  Felix  !" 

The  color  which  had  flickered  in  her  pale  cheeks  on  her 
first  arrival,  but  which  had  faded  and  died  out  as  she  sat 
alone,  thinking,  always  thinking,  of  him,  now  blazed  in 
her  radiant  face  as  she  held  out  her  arms  to  him  with  this 
low  cry,  and  half  arose  to  her  trembling  feet. 

"  Margie  !  Darling  !  Oh,  my  love,  why  did  you  leave 
me  without  a  word  ?  How  could  you  leave  me  so  ?  I  am 
not  so  bad  as  you  thought.  You  have  almost  broken  my 


THE  PARTY.  2fy 

"heart ! "  and  Felix  came  and  seized  her  gloved  hands, 
covering  them  with  kisses  and  kneeling  before  her,  bowed 
his  blonde  head  upon  them. 

"  Felix ! "  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  He  looked  up.  "  I 
-am  to  blame ;  I  was  jealous,  wounded,"  she  said,  very 
gently.  "  I  am  sure  I  have  wronged  you.  Can  you  for- 
give me  ?  Did  you  receive  my  letter  ?  Were  you  too  angry 
to  answer  it  ?  " 

Glance  now  a  moment  at  that  pink  figure  standing  ex- 
pectant, almost  on  tip-toe,  at  the  door  of  the  dressing- 
room.  She  had  stepped  out  from  her  wraps,  her  cheek 
nigh  matching  the  color  of  the  silk  she  wore,  which  was 
of  soft  rose.  The  dainty  little  foot  encased  in  black  silk 
stocking  and  kid  slipper,  the  black,  undressed  glove  reach- 
ing above  the  rounded  elbow,  the  vivacious  turn  of  the 
jauntily  set  head  with  never  a  curl  quite  in  place  and  not 
•one  out  of  place,  tilting  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the 
other,  displaying  to  advantage  the  full,  white  throat,  set 
off  by  a  broad  band  of  black  velvet,  she  stood  waiting  for 
Philip. 

Meanwhile  the  young  host  walked  along  the  upper  hall, 
looking  for  the  little  gray  figure  which  had  stood  with  him 
in  the  light  of  the  fire  but  a  space  ago  in  Mr.  Stearns's 
parlor.  Where  was  she  ?  He  peered  among  the  company 
below.  He  had  ventured  but  a  moment  before  as  far  as 
the  door  of  the  ladies'  dressing-room,  but,  seeing  only  the 
back  of^  a  pink  silk  dress,  had  as  cautiously  retired  as  he 
had  incautiously  advanced,  thinking  to  find  only  his  sweet, 
gray  girl.  "  Can  she  have  gone  down  without  me  ? "  he 
murmured.  "Perhaps  mother  met  her,  or  the  little  chap-' 
«rone.  But  no,  surely  she  would  wait  for  me." 


268  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

The  black  fan  was  now  raised  in  the  air,  and  shut  to- 
gether with  a  little  "crack"  at  him.  The  pink  figure  now 
took  on  a  look  natural  to  another  garb." 

"  Why,  what  a  dolt !  That  I  should  fail  to  know  her 
under  this  guise,"  said  Philip,  as  he  hastened  to  meet  her. 

"Here  I  am,"  she  laughed.  "Don't  you  know  me?" 
perceiving  his  bewildered  state.  Her  pearly  teeth  glistened 
between  her  laughing  lips.  She  placed  her  hand  on  his 
arm,  and  he,  half-dazed,  regarded  her  with  delight.  He  led 
her  to  his  mother. 

"  I  persuaded  Miss  Wright  to  come,"  he  said  to  her,, 
quietly,  "  you  see,  mother." 

Miss  St.  John  had  scarcely  recovered  from  the  stunning 
surprise  of  Felix  Plummer  in  loving  attendance  upon  Mar- 
gery, attired  in  his  bicycle  costume,  when  her  eyes  fell 
upon  her  niece  in  all  her  bravery  of  evening  toilet  talking 
animatedly  with  young  Peterson,  who  was  looking  an  un- 
told admiration.  He  was  a  young  cousin  of  the  Farn- 
ham's,  and  while  not  exactly  Philip's  prototype,  was  quite 
of  the  family  bearing,  being  a  son  of  the  sister  of  Philip's 
mother. 

Miss  St.  John  advanced  upon  the  unconventional  girl, 
with  indignation  in  her  eye,  just  in  time  to  see  her  grace- 
fully accept  the  arm  of  Tom  Peterson  and  go  to  join  the 
frolicsome  games  in  the  other  room. 

As  she  passed  her  astonished  relative,  tossing  her  head 
a  little,  one  side  and  looking  back  over  Peterson's  shoulder, 
she  said  with  smiling  complacency,  "  Aren't  we  having  a 
lovely  time,  this  evening,  auntie  ?  " 

As  Philip  and  Mahala  stood  together  awaiting  their  turn. 


THE  PARTY.  26Q 

in  the  dance  later  in  the  evening,  she  said,  archly,  "  What 
would  your  conservative  English  cousin  of  the  '  Lindsay 
branch  '  say  to  such  an  escapade  as  ours  this  morning  ?  " 
referring  to  a  lady  Philip  had  spoken  of,  as  having  given 
him  the  lovely  intaglio  which  he  wore. 

"  Oh,  as  to  that  talk  of  conservatism,"  replied  Philip, 
smilingly,  "it  is  held  but  a  tame,  light  amusement, 
this  gliding  swiftly,  quietly,  modestly  along  on  those 
wheels,  compared  with  the  exciting,  wild  delight  of  spurring 
a  blooded  steed  over  a  six-foot  rail ;  an  amusement  which 
has  been  a  sport  of  English  dames  for  centuries.  But, 
perhaps,"  continued  he,  as  together  they  glided  across  the 
floor,  "  that  has  helped  to  make  the  fine  English  physique." 

With  songs  and  dancing,  with  laughter  and  chatter,  and 
flirting  beyond  conjecture,  with  piano-playing,  with  artis- 
tic and  literary  conversations  in  the  library,  quiet  words  in 
the  flower-room  between  lovers,  looking  at  pictures,  prom- 
enading and  sipping  ices,  the  evening  passed  away. 

The  guests  departed.  Ladies  in  shawls  and  fleecy  rigo- 
lets  came  muffled  to  the  door,  congratulations  and  best 
wishes  were  exchanged,  carriages  rolled  up  to  and  away 
from  the  porch,  and  the  party  was  ended.  Then,  when  the 
lights  in  the  rest  of  the  house  were  out,  and  everything  so 
quiet  after  the  pleasant  din,  Plummer  and  Farnham  sat  an 
hour  in  the  library,  before  the  open  fire.  As  the  old  clock 
in  the  hall  struck  the  hour  of  twelve,  they  bade  "good 
night "  in  subdued  tones,  and  went  to  rest. 


CHAPTER   XX. 


DURING  the  Sunday. that  immediately  followed  the 
events  of  the  last  chapter,  it  was  decided  by  the 
older  tricycle  tourists  not  to  prolong  their  trip  beyond  the 
place  which  had  proved  so  hospitable  and  interesting  a. 
resting-place. 

It  was  evident,  Miss  St.  John  said,  as  she  sat  with  Mrs.. 
Mather  in  their  chamber  after  church,  and  looked  over  and 
arranged  a  collection  of  sketches,  that  Margery  now  had 
no  thought  but  of  her  regained  happiness. 

Mrs.  Mather,  who  was  jotting  down  some  amusing  notes. 
for  the  delectation  of  her  husband  on  her  return,  arrested 
her  busy  pen,  and  raising  her  face  with  pleasure  shining 
in  it,  said  with  sympathetic  warmth,  how  glad  she  was  that 
the  dear  girl  was  reconciled  to  her  lover  again.  She  con- 
fessed that  the  sight  of  her  ill-concealed  sadness,  during, 
all  their  pleasant  journey,  had  been  a  weight  upon  her  mind. 
It  was  so  delightful  to  see  them  happy  together  once  more.' 

"  Yes,"  Miss  St.  John  had  answered,  slowly,  with  her 
eyebrows  raised,  as  she  carelessly  scratched  the  outline  of 
a  cat's  head  on  the  margin  of  Saturday's  Courant  which 

(270) 


THE  FINISH.  2-r 

lay  upon  the  table,  "  but  it  made  her  rather  indifferent  to 
the  continuance  of  the  journey.  Margery  was  living  now 
in  a  supreme  content,  which  showed  in  every  action,  was 
heard  in  her  musical  voice  and  shone  in  her  soulful  eyes. 
It  was  beautiful  as  a  study ;  she  would  like  to  paint  her 
face  with  that  expression,  as  Hero,  immediately  after 
Leander  crept  ashore  on  the  termination  of  one  of  his  long 
swims,  but  her  associates  were  for  the  nonce  forgotten." 

Mrs.  Mather  said  she  was  sure,  for  her  part,  she  was 
willing  to  be  forgotten  for  a  time  in  view  of  Margery's  joy 
in  the  presence  of  her  lover.  A  little  red  spot  came  into 
her  cheeks,  and  she  looked  reproachfully  at  the  artist. 

Miss  St.  John  said  she  believed  that  was  not  the  point 
She  could  also  survive  without  Margery's  constant  com- 
panionship. The  question  was  of  the  advisability  of  con- 
tinuing a  trip  when  at  least  one  of  the  party  had  lost  in- 
terest in  it.  It  was  not  likely  that  Margery  would  be 
separated  from  Mr.  Plummer,  now.  He  had  called  to  take 
her  to  church,  was  riding  with  her  then,  and  probably 
would  again  make  his  appearance  in  the  parlor  in  the 
evening. 

"  Why,  Dude,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  opening  her  blue  eyes, 
"  surely  you  cannot  begrudge  Margie — " 

<f  I  do  not  begrudge  anything  to  any  one,"  Miss  St. 
John  replied,  with  emphasis  upon  the  objectionable  word, 
and  making  a  shower  of  dots  on  the  paper.  "  I  merely  say 
that  we  may  as  well  end  the  trip  here,  because  we  cannot 
have  Felix  Plummer  accompany  us  and  enjoy  the  absolute 
freedom  and  unconventional  pleasures  which  have  distin- 
guished this  outing  until  we  came  to  Essex." 


2^2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

Mrs.  Mather  saw  that  something  more  than  was  appar- 
ent upon  the  surface  of  her  friend's  remarks  occasioned 
this  acidity  in  the  general  tone  of  Miss  St.  John's  de- 
meanor. She  felt  guilty  about  something,  and  as  if  Dude 
was  only  waiting  for  a  chance  to  make  unpleasant  accusa- 
tions upon  her.  Much  to  her  relief,  Mahala  here  came 
into  the  room,  with  not  a  shadow  of  anything  unusual  in 
her  merry  face,  and  said  she  thought  it  was  high  time 
some  one  came  and  waked  up  Uncle  Stearns,  who  had 
been  snoring  frightfully  under  his  paper  ever  since  dinner. 

So  they  went  down  stairs,  and  the  day  passed  away. 

Mahala  listened  with  a  surging  of  blood  at  her  ears, 
when  the  door-bell  rang  at  evening.  A  great  pang  of  dis- 
appointment smote  her  heart  when,  peeping  over  the  bal- 
ustrade, she  saw  Mr.  Felix  Plummer  enter  alone.  But 
she  had  seen  kirn  at  church,  and  the  few  casual  words  he 
had  said  to  her,  as  they  came  down  the  steps,  contained 
such  a  world  of  meaning,  in  his  voice,  with  his  eyes  look- 
ing down  at  her  so  !  Philip  was  doubtless  bound  by  filial 
affection  to  remain  with  his  parents  this  evening.  He 
always  did  right  and  was  so  thoughtful  and  kind ! 

She  stilled  a  faint  sigh,  and  suddenly  brightening  as  a 
mischievous  idea  came  into  her  head,  she  ran  down  stairs 
in  haste.  She  knew  Margery  was  staying  to  add  some 
imaginary  adornments  to  her  beautiful  person  before  the 
mirror,  so  to  meet  with  greater  favor  in  her  lover's  eyes, 
and  she  flew  noiselessly  down,  scarcely  touching  the  steps 
with  her  slippered  feet,  with  her  blue  gown  floating  be- 
hind, and  entered  the  dim  parlor  where  sat  Felix  before 
the  fire,  waiting.  Stealing  up  behind  him,  the  merry  elf 


THE  FINISH.  273 

placed  her  hands  upon  his  shoulder  and  chanted  with  a 
sob  in  her  voice,  into  his  ear  : 

"  Would  you  come  back  to  me,  Margie,  Margie, 

In  the  old  kindness  that  I  knew, 
I  would  be  so  faithful,  so  loving,  Margie, 

Margie,  Margie,  tender  and  true — " 

"  Mahala  Wright !  You  little  witch  !  "  exclaimed  Felix 
with  a  joyous  laugh,  as  he  seized  her  hands  and  brought 
her  around  to  the  front.  "  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 
Then  he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  as  a  wave  of  tenderness  swept 
over  his  mobile  features,  "  Tell  me,  Mike,  did  she  confide 
to  you  that  she  was  unhappy  before  I  came  ? "  and  he 
looked  up  to  the  kittenish  person  before  him,  all  eagerness 
to  hear  of  her — his  love. 

"Tell  me?  Not  a  word!"  was  the  answer.  "Girls,  I 
wish  you  to  understand,  sir,  do  not  go  about  telling  every- 
thing they  know,"  and  she  gave  her  head  a  little  toss  as 
she  stood  back  and  regarded  him  with  considerable  superi- 
ority. "  I'll  guarantee,  now,"  she  said,  "  that  you  went 
about  confessing  your  bad  feelings  to  half  a  dozen  people." 

He  could  not  deny  it. 

"Poor  dear  Margie  suffered  in  silence.  Now,  Felix 
Plummer,  I  have  been  smothering  my  indignation  ever 
since  I  began  to  see  that  something  was  wrong  with  her," 
pursued  Miss  Wright,  with  a  savage  expression  which  was 
scarcely  imposing  upon  her  dimpled  face,  "  and  now  I 
must  say,  that  whether  it  was  you  or  anyone  else  that  has 
made  her  sad  for  an  hour,  he  deserves — " 

"  But  tell  me,  Mahala,"  pleaded  Felix,  paying  no  heed 
to  her,  only  waiting  to  hear  the  assurance  again  that  his 
w.  &  w.— 18 


274  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

beloved  had  sighed  for  him.  "  Was  she  sad  ?  Did  the 
others  suspect,  too  ?  Was  she  lovely  and  unselfish  as' 
ever  ?  Did  you  perceive  that  it  was  I  that  she  was  sor- 
rowing for  ? " 

His  blue  eyes  were  moist  with  earnestness  and  loving 
regret,  as  he  held  a  fold  of  her  skirt  when  she  would  have 
turned  away. 

"Well,  yes,"  said  the  girl,  as  she  looked  kindly  at  him, 
remembering  that  Margie  was  happy  once  more.  "  I  did 
suspect  it  was  you,  Felix,  who  had  grieved  her,  as  she 
never  mentioned  your  name,  and  seemed  so  distrait  some- 
times, in  spite  of  her  effort  to  be  like  herself." 

"Ah,  poor  girl !  "  said  the  lover,  bending  his  head  for  an 
instant  and  breathing  hard.  "  But,  Mahala,"  he  said,  look- 
ing up  quickly  again  and  reddening,  "don't  you  really 
know  what  it — what  our  slight  misunderstanding  was 
about  ? "  He  watched  her  face  closely. 

"Not  a  word,  I  tell  you,  Felix,"  she  answered,  meeting 
his  gaze  fully.  "  But  it  does  not  need  a  very  deep  mind 
to  guess,"  she  thought,  "when  any  one  has  seen  you  being 
led  around  by  that  Bangtry  creature." 

Felix  rose  to  his  feet  and  expanded  his  chest  deeply. 
"Well,"  he  said,  looking  towards  the  door,  "then  you 
never  will." 

"  Well,"  mimicked  Mahala,  making  him  a  sweeping 
courtesy,  "  I  don't  want  to,  Sir  Orpheus."  Then  she  came 
and  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  friendly  grasp.  "  I  am  only 
glad  you  have  found  your  Eurydice.  Good-bye !  I'll  skip 
now ;  Margery  is  coming,"  and  with  a  bound  she  dashed 
out  of  the  parlor  and  ran  with  considerable  violence  into 


THE  FINISH.  2ye 

the  arms  of  Philip  Farnham,  who  had  just  entered  the 
hall. 

"  Oh  !  I  beg  pardon  !  I  did  not  know  that  you — did  I 
hurt  you  much  ?"  said  Mahala,  blushing  and  breathless,  as 
she  made  an  effort  to  regain  her  composure. 

"  Well,  not  seriously,  I  think,"  said  Philip,  as  he  held 
the  sweet  confusion  of  curly  hair,  blue  ribbons,  white 
hands  and  fluttering  form  for  an  instant  to  his  breast. 
"  Did  you  not  know  I  was  coming  ? "  he  asked,  as  he  let 
her  go. 

She  stood  by  the  newel  in  the  hall,  tracing  the  scroll- 
work with  her  forefinger  as  she  looked  down  and  smiled 
in  trembling  happiness.  While  he  drew  off  his  gloves  and 
hung  his  overcoat  upon  the  rack  he  said  he  had  brought 
Plumrner  over,  and  had  tried  to  be  considerate  and  con- 
sume as  much  time  as  possible  in  tying  and  blanketing  his 
horse. 

"  One  should  never  intrude  upon  lovers'  meetings.  Do 
you  not  think  so  ? "  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  as  he  returned 
to  her. 

Mahala  did  not  speak. 

"  Solely  on  their  account,  Miss  Wright,"  he  said,  as  he 
stood  so  close  beside  her  that  her  head  was  almost  against 
his  breast  again,  and  looked  down  at  her  with  a  humorous 
expression  around  his  mouth,  which  changed  in  the  eyes  to 
a  deep  tenderness,  "  so  as  not  to  disturb  them,  Mahala, 
don't  you  think  we  had  better  go  into  the  sitting-room  ? " 
He  laid  his  hand  protectingly  under  her  elbow  as  he 
spoke. 

«  Yes — that  is,  perhaps  they  would  like  it  better,"  an- 


2^6  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

swered  Mahala,  raising  her  eyes  bashfully,  but  ending  the 
sentence  with  a  low  laugh. 

Mr.  Stearns  looked  up>  benignantly  over  his  glasses  as 
they  entered  the  room,  and,  after  making  the  caller  wel- 
come and  asking  a  few  polite  questions  concerning  himself 
and  parents,  he  took  the  Independent  and  retired  to  the 
kitchen,  professing  that  he  had  a  very  profound  article  to 
read,  and  could  not  think  in  such  a  chatter. 

Hearing  subdued  conversation  below,  Miss  St.  John  had 
come  out  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  just  at  the  moment 
when  Philip  and  Mahala  were  passing  into  the  sitting- 
room.  She  took  in  the  confiding  attitude  of  the  young 
girl,  the  blushing,  artless  look  of  trustfulness  up  into  the 
warm,  brown  eyes  of  the  tall  man  who  bent  so  gracefully 
his  fine  head  near  to  hers,  at  a  glance.  The  air  of  guard- 
ianship with  which  Philip  Farnham  clasped  Mahala's  arm 
as  they  passed  from  view  was  a  revelation,  indeed  !  • 

Miss  St.  John  stood  a  picture  of  despair.  What  she 
had  vaguely  feared  had  come  to  pass.  She  clasped  her 
hands  in  distress.  Then  she  walked  into  the  chamber  and 
said,  as  she  sat  down  with  a  hopeless  sigh,  "  Well,  I  sup- 
pose the  only  thing  to  be  done  now,  is  to  go  home  and 
give  an  account  of  ourselves." 

"  I  am  ready  to  turn  about  at  any  time,  Dude,  that  you 
think  best,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  who  had  been  terribly 
homesick,  if  the  truth  must  be  known. 

"Although  we  have  not  reached  the  salt  water,  where  I 
expected  to  get  some  lovely  marines,"  pursued  the  lady, 
as  if  not  hearing  Mrs.  Mather's  cautious  answer,  "  it 


THE  FINISH.  27? 

seems  to  me  we  had  better  return  at  once;  I  mean, 
to-morrow." 

She  sat  making  imaginary  cross-hatching  in  a  despond- 
ent manner,  on  the  arm  of  the  rocking-chair,  with  the  end 
of  her  linger. 

"  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  hear  you  say  that,"  said  Julie, 
with  a  joyous  light  in  her  face.  "I  have  a  letter  here  tell- 
ing me  that  Fred  is  home,  and  the  poor  fellow  asks  if  we 
are  not  almost  ready  to  come  back."  She  would  have 
taken  the  missive  from  her  pocket  if  she  had  received  the 
least  encouragement  from  the  other,  but  she  did  not.  "  I 
was  going  to  be  brave,  and  not  speak  of  it,"  she  continued, 
resting  her  hand  upon  the  letter  in  her  pocket.  "  I  did 
not  intend  to  be  the  one  to  beg  off ;  but  I  am  ready  to  go 
at  any  minute  now."  She  arose  with  alacrity  and  began 
to  pack  up  some  stationery. 

"  Then,  suppos^e  we  take  the  boat  to-morrow  night.  You 
see  as  well  as  I  do  that  Mr.  Plummer  will  be  an  attach^  ol 
the  party  henceforth." 

"  Yes,  undoubtedly,"  answered  Mrs.  Mather. 

"  Dude,"  she  said,  after  a  pause,  faltering  a  little,  "  how 
about  Mahala?" 

"  What  about  Mahala  ? "  said  the  aunt,  dryly. 

"  Why — why,  don't  you  think  Philip  Farnham  is  very 
much — attracted  to  her?" 

"lam  no  judge  in  these  things,"  the  artist  replie.d, 
shortly.  She  looked  sharply  at  the  little  woman  who  sat 
folding  and  creasing  the  newspaper  in  an  embarrassed 
manner  upon  her  lap.  "What  do  you  think?  You  seem 
gifted  with  an  understanding  in  these  matters  that  sur- 
passes— " 


278  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Dude  ? "  demanded  Mrs.  Mather, 
flushing  hotly.  "  If  you  intend  to  insinuate — " 

"  I  insinuate  nothing,"  returned  Miss  St.  John,  smiling 
faintly.  "  There  seems  to  be  no  call  for  an  insinuation 
from  me,  as  you  seem  already  to  defend  yourself  from 
something  I  should  never  have  dared  to  suspect." 

"Dude,"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  piteously,  wincing  under  the 
gaze  of  the  sterner  woman,  "you  cannot  be  sorry  that 
Philip  Farnham  evidently  loves  your  niece.  He  is  one  of 
a  thousand.  Of  most  desirable  family  connections,  irre- 
proachable in  character  and  personal  appearance,  unques- 
tionably generous  and  kind.  What  more  would  you 
have  ? " 

"  Really,  you  make  out  an  attractive  list  of  advantages 
in  your" — she  was  about  to  say  protege,  but  perhaps 
recollecting  her  own  predilection  in  his  favor,  and  perhaps 
warned  by  an  ominous  look  in  Mrs.  Mather's  eye  that  it 
were  prudent  not  to  push  her  too  far,  she  thought  better 
of  it,  and  said,  "  friend.  Oh,  Mr.  Farnham  is  well  enough, 
but  I  am  so  worried  to  have  it  happen  to  Mahala." 

She  spoke  as  if  the  girl  had  contracted  scarlet  fever  or 
caught  whooping-cough,  and  picked  nervously  at  the  bit 
of  fine  lace  on  her  dress. 

Seeing  her  so  truly  troubled  about  an  affair  which 
seemed  in  every  way  beautiful  and  interesting  to  her,  Mrs. 
Mather  recovered  her  composure  somewhat,  and  asked : 
"  Do  you  want  her  to  remain  unmarried  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  wish  to  decide  for  her  in  any 
way.  But,  she  is  only  nineteen  !  I  want  her  to  have  her 
frolic  out.  The  hard  realities  of  life  come  all  too  soon. 


THE  FINISH.  27  Q 

She  has  only  begun  to  live.  With  character  and  tastes 
unformed,  it  seems  a  pity  to  have  her  absorbed  into  the 
personality  of  a  man." 

Now,  although  Miss  St.  John  seemed  usually  not  to  have 
acquired  the  fastidious  objection  to  the  male  sex  in  gen- 
eral which  most  maiden  ladies  come  to  feel,  it  cropped  out 
a  little  now  that  she  was  touched  with  the  idea  that  her 
niece  was  giving  her  affections  to  "  a  man."  She  got 
along  so  very  well  without  one,  and  saw  so  many  things 
in  other  women's  husbands  that  she  knew  she  never  could 
put  up  with. 

"  Well,  Dude,"  said  Julia,  with  a  little  softening  in  her 
tones,  and  a  look  of  sincere  pity  for  the  joys  unsealed  to 
her,  which  scarcely  put  the  spinster  more  at  her  ease, 
"from  your  stand-point  I  can  see  how  you  feel.  But  I  was 
married  at  eighteen  and  have  never  for  one  moment  in  the 
ten  years  regretted  it.  Instead  of  the  absorption,  it  was 
the  rounding  out  of  girlish  character." 

"Yes,  yes.  I  suppose  I  am  talking  against  human 
nature,"  said  Miss  St.  John,  sighing.  "Listen,  Julie: 
while  I  would  not  raise  a  finger  to  encourage,  or  prevent, 
this  thing,  I  must  say  I  regret  exceedingly  that  this  rapid 
fancy  has  sprung  up  while  the  girl  is  under  my  care." 

She  shook  her  head  and  sighed  again.  "  I  have  wished 
a  thousand  times  since  the  day  of  the  encounter  in  Farn- 
ham's  woods  that  there  might  be  some  excuse  to  go  home ; 
tut  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  or  invent  a  plausible  one. 
Well,  perhaps  it  is  fate  !  But  I  shall  not  know  how  to  face 
my  sister  when  I  tell  her."  She  arose  and  walked  around 
the  room  in  a  sort  of  desperation. 


2  So  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

"  Tell  her  nothing,"  Mrs.  Mather  quickly  said.  "  There 
may  be  nothing  to  tell.  If  there  is,  let  Mahala  tell  it. 
Perhaps  Philip  may.  But,  Dude,"  she  said  again,  "  I  wish 
I  knew  you  did  not  blame  me  in  any  way.  I  did  not 
make  them  fall  in  love.  I  only — " 

"  You  only  smoothed  the  way.  Do  not  imagine  I  have 
not  seen  your  truly  feminine  maneuvers  to  make  occasion 
for  the  two  persons  whom  you  admire  to  fall  in  love  with 
each  other.  Well,  Julie,  I  do  not  blame  you.  It  was  doubt- 
less inevitable,  without  your  gentle  assistance.  I  know 
every  happy  wife  will  do  all  she  can  to  help  others  into  the 
same  condition." 

"  Well,  why  not,  Dude  ?  " 

The  artist  shook  her  head.  "  It  is  a  grave  responsibil- 
ity to  assume." 

Mrs.  Mather  was  miserable.  How  she  wanted  to  get 
home  and  tell  Fred !  Dude  almost  made  her  feel  as  if  she 
did  not  want  to  live.  Would  the  Wrights  blame  her  for 
anything  ?  No,  she  would  stand  by  her  best  judgment, 
which  told  her  that  Philip  Farnham  was  a  desirable  con- 
nection for  any  family. 

Miss  St.  John  went  on  to  say  that  if  she 'should  speak 
from  her  own  feelings  she  would  be  glad  to  have  Mahala 
forego  the  happiness,  the  companionship  of  married  life, 
and  so  escape  its  wearing  trials.  She  felt  that  the  joys  of 
maternity  were  ever  overshadowed  by  a  haunting  care  and 
recurring  vicissitudes.  The  wifely  love  was  often  tinged 
with  anxiety  lest  the  other  half  of  herself  should  fall  short 
of  noble  manhood.  But  she  supposed  it  was  the  intention 
of  an  inscrutable  Providence  for  women  to  marry. 


THE  FINISH.  281 

Mrs.  Mather  thanked  heaven  for  the  limitless  joys  of  a 
natural,  dual  existence. 

It  was  evident  the  next  morning  that  the  respectful  at- 
tentions of  a  refined  young  gentleman  to  her  niece  did  not 
seem  such  an  irremediable  calamity  as  when  she  first  re- 
ceived the  shock  of  conviction  that  Mahala  had  a  lover. 
She  was  bright  and  good-natured  as  usual  at  breakfast, 
and  chatted  agreeably  of  the  trip  while  they  talked  of  go- 
ing home.  As  they  finished,  she  said,  impressively,  but 
with  an  ominous  twinkle  in  her  eye  as  she  pulled  a  paper 
from  her  pocket,  "Mr.  Stearns  and  friends:  I  have  here 
a  document  which  I  wish  to  read  and  comment  upon 
as  showing  conclusively  the  mutability  of  human  plans 
in  general  and  the  unreliability  of  young  femininity  in 
particular." 

"What  is  it,  Dude?"  said  Mrs.  Mather,  folding  her  nap- 
kin. 

"  Read  it,  Miss  St.  John,"  said  Mr.  Stearns,  moving  his 
chair  back  from  the  table  and  taking  a  new  position,  with 
anticipation  in  his  face. 

"  It  will  not  reflect  too  severely  upon  me,  I  hope,"  said 
Margery,  blushing  in  some  perturbation. 

"  Oh,  auntie ! "  screamed  Mahala,  as  the  lady  unrolled  it 
in  another  way  and  spread  it  out  before  her.  "It  is  my 
list  of  Rules  and  Regulations !  Where  did  you  get  it  ? 
Give  it  to  me  !  "  and  she  made  a  rush  around  the  table  for 
her  aunt. 

As  she  seized  her  arm,  Miss  St.  John  quickly  transferred 
the  folio  to  the  other  hand,  and  said  :  "Mr.  Stearns,  will 
you  undertake  to  keep  this  young  woman  in  order  while  1 
read?" 


2g2  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

Mr.  Stearns  arose  with  mock  solemnity,  and  taking 
Mahala  by  the  arms  held  them  behind  her  as  he  sat  in  his 
chair  and  bade  Miss  St.  John  to  go  on. 

"Before  proceeding,  I  wish  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Stearns,  and 
to  remind  these  ladies,"  she  said,  looking  severely  upon 
them,  "that  these  Rules  and  Regulations,  intended  to  guide 
the  conduct  of  these  excursionists,  were  drafted  by  Miss 
Mahala  Wright  and  sworn  to  by  these  other  persons." 

"  So  did  you  swear  to  them,  Aunt  Dude,"  interrupted 
Mahala,  who  was  now  sitting  contentedly  on  the  arm  of 
Mr.  Stearns's  chair,  while  his  broad  hand  rested  affection- 
ately on  her  shapely  shoulder. 

"I  did,"  answered  the  artist,  calmly,  "and  I  defy  any 
one  to  find  an  occasion  where  I  have  broken  the  faith. 
Listen,  Mr.  Stearns,"  and  amid  much  laughter  from  the 
old  gentleman,  whose  generous  bulk  shook  with  amuse- 
ment, she  read  the  "cast-iron  rules,"  as  she  chose  to  term 
them. 

"Now,"  laying  down  the  paper,  she  looked  fixedly  in 
turn  at  her  three  companions,  who  already  began  to  laugh 
confusedly  with  uneasy  color  in  their  faces  in  anticipation 
of  her  speech. 

"  I  charge  Julie  Mather,  matron  and  chaperone  of  this 
party,  with  perjury,  in  that  she  has  shamelessly  written  to 
her  husband  on  sundry  and  divers  occasions,  once  or  twice 
audaciously  scribbling  love-letters  under  my  very  nose, 
while  under  the  pretense  of  learning  to  sketch." 

"  Oh,  Dude,  did  you  see  that  ? "  exclaimed  Julie,  with  a 
peal  of  merry  laughter,  and  the  ceremony  of  the  occasion 
was  somewhat  disturbed  as  Miss  St.  John  retorted,  "  Of 


THE  FINISH.  23^ 

course  I  did  !  Do  you  think  I  am  blind  ? "  and  Margery 
and  Mahala  joined  in  the  accusations  of  fraud  against 
their  faithful  friend. 

Girls  are  often  ungrateful. 

Order  was  at  last  restored  and  Miss  St.  John  continued, 
"  Of  course,  when  such  duplicity  as  this  becomes  known 
of  a  person,  little  responsibility  in  the  discharge  of  her 
duties  of  gorgon,  duenna,  chaperone  is  to  be  expected." 

Mahala  began  to  grow  pink. 

"  I  therefore  make  no  comment  upon  the  gross  neglect 
of  duty  apparent  to  my  grieved  perceptions,  but  which  has 
been  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course  by  these  two  young 
women." 

Margery  gave  Mrs.  Mather  a  little  pat  on  the  shoulder 
and  smiled  gratefully  into  her  eyes. 

Mahala  turned  very  red  in  the  face,  but  said  intrepidly, 
"  Margie,  who  was  it  auntie  was  worried  about,  the  book 
agent  (it  cannot  be  she  was  jealous  while  receiving  so 
large  a  share  of  his  agreeable  smiles  herself),  or  was  it 
Jerry  Bodge?"  Again  her  audacity  saved  her. 

"  I  further  complain,  Mr.  Stearns,"  continued  Miss  St. 
John,  "that  the  murderous  weapon  of  thirty-two-caliber, 
carried  by  Mrs.  Mather,  has  never  been  of  the  slightest 
comfort  on  trying  occasions,  having  doubtless  been  left 
with  the  toy-pistols  in  the  trunk." 

"Now,  Dude!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mather,  "  I  protest.  It 
has  never  been  out  of  reach  except  one  day,  when  Mar- 
gery borrowed  it  for  [target  practice.  I  say  that  I  have 
been  in  constant  readiness  to  use  it  in  case  of  any  emer- 
gency. Confine  yourself  to  facts,  please." 


234  WHEELS  AND   WHIMS. 

"The  objection  is  noted;  I  will.  And  now,  perhaps, 
you  will  be  interested  to  know  how  my  toy-pistol  saved 
me  from  annoyance;  to  term  it  nothing  more  alarming." 
She  told  them  about  her  interview  with  the  pack-peddler. 

"Oh,  auntie! " 

"  Why,  Dude  !  " 

"You  brave  creature!"  exclaimed  her  surprised  com- 
panions, while  Mr.  Stearns  said  with  some  vehemence  that 
it  was  not  a  safe  thing  for  women  to  be  out  around  so, 
alone. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  the  artist  said,  unconcernedly,  "  I 
suppose  I  was  in  the  same  danger  that  any  slight  young^ 
man  would  have  been." 

Mr.  Stearns  saw  that  she  would  not  understand  any 
perils  which  might  deter  her  artistic  wanderings  afield. 

"Well,  to  conclude  my  remarks,  Mr.  Stearns  and  young- 
women,  I  will  say  that  until  women  become  more  disci- 
plined than  this  company  has  proved  itself  to  be,  they  will 
scream  rather  than  use  whistles  ;  they  will  exhibit  an  indis- 
creet resentment  of  the  manners  of  an  insulting  brute,  and 
then  fall  back  upon  the  gallantry  of  a  Quixotic  young  man 
to  deliver  them  from  the  direct  results  of  impru — " 

"  Quixotic ! " 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Miss  St.  John  !  " 

"You  were  very  glad  to  welcome  Don  Quixote  with  frantic 
gesticulations  to  make  haste,  I  noticed,  and  first  to  sing 
his  praises  after  the  rescue,  I  believe,"  said  Mahala,  indig- 
nantly aroused. 

"  Well  I  will  stop,  for  I  perceive  I  am  becoming  unpopu- 
lar, though  there  is  much  I  could  say  just  here,"  and  Miss 


THE  FINISH.  285 

St.  John  seemed  in  very  good  humor,  now  that  she  had 
freed  her  mind.  "  I  claim,  however,  that  I  am  the  only 
one  in  this  party  who  has  followed  the  rules  agreed  to, 
and  kept  the  main  idea  of  the  trip  in  view  throughout  all." 

"  You  certainly,  then,  ought  to  be  happy,  in  close  har- 
mony with  an  approving  conscience,  Miss  St.  John,"  said 
Mr.  Stearns,  as  they  left  the  table.  "  Now,  suppose  you 
bring  your  sketches  down  stairs  and  let  us  look  them  over 
this  morning." 

"  With  pleasure,"  was  the  response. 

At  this  time,  late  in  the  story,  when  the  reader  may  be 
half  vexed  at  having  followed  so  simple  a  tale  thus  far,  it 
would  be  imposing  upon  time  and  patience  to  relate  how 
before  noon  Messrs.  Plummer  and  Farnham  came  into  view 
down  the  street  on  horseback  and  bicycle,  and  announced 
their  desire  to  escort  Margery  and  Mahala  to  ride. 
^  To  describe  their  merry  excursion  by  wheels  and  horse 
might  seem  to  us  a  repetition  of  a  former  jaunt.  To  recite 
any  portion  of  their  absorbing  conversations  would  be 
tautology  to  all  who  have  known  the  sweet  intercourse  of 
plighted  troth,  felt  the  repressed  excitement  of  growing 
passion,  or  imagined  them  in  their  hearts. 

No.  Let  them  go  through  by-ways  and  hedges,  over 
brambly  knolls  and  along  smooth  paths,  under  the  almost 
denuded  trees,  crackling  brown  leaves  and  dried  sticks 
under  rubber  tires  and  horse's  hoofs;  overhead  the 
late  October  sky  which  is  beginning  to  pale  at  the 
approach  of  sullen  November,  on  the  brink  of  the  beauti- 
ful river,  as  it  blithely  nears  the  end  of  its  long  journey 


286  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

from  the  little  lake  up  in  the  mountains  four  hundred 
miles  away ;  laughing,  loving,  sighing,  hoping,  let  them 
go,  while  Mrs.  Mather  packs  her  trunk  and  Miss  St.  John 
has  one  good  final  argument  with  Mr.  Stearns  upon 
the  equal  rights  of  women  to  work  and  —  never  mind! 
She  will  talk  it. 

It  was  evening  when  they  left  the  house  which  had  so 
kindly  sheltered  them  for  a  few  days.  But  how  replete 
with  experiences  had  been  that  brief  visit ! 

They  stood  upon  the  wharf  in  their  gray  dresses,  their 
wheels  in  careful  charge  of  the  baggage-man,  their  trunk 
upon  a  truck,  in  pleasant  desultory  chat,  as  they  waited 
for  the  boat. 

The  weird  glare  of  the  lights  flaring  in  a  gentle  wind 
which  moaned  over  the  dark  river,  the  low  tones  of  the 
few  town  stragglers  who  had  hung  around  to  see  the  boat 
in,  carried  an  undertone  of  indefinable  sadness  to  the 
heart  of  Uncle  Stearns,  who  shivered  a  little,  and  bade 
them  come  under  the  adjoining  shed  until  the  boat 
arrived. 

Felix  Plummer  was  going  to  Hartford  with  Margery. 
His  bicycle  run  had  cured  his  sickness  and  he  returned  a 
well  and  happy  man,  looking  forward  with  intense  longing 
to  a  day — (They  are  married  now.) 

Philip  Farnham,  too,  was  there.  It  was  his  last  hour 
with  her  unless — 

"  Mr.  Farnham,"  Mahala  said,  low,  "  you  will — will  you 
not  come  to  Hartford  ?  It  has  been  such  a  pleasant 
thing  to  know  you.  I — I — perhaps  you  would  like  to  see 
Joe's  aquarium ! " 


THE  FINISH.  23- 

The  throbbing  of  the  paddle-wheels*,  rush  !  rush  !  rush  ! 
rush !  came  on  the  breeze  from  a  mile  down  river. 

"  She's  a-comin' !  "  said  the  baggage-man  as  he  jumped 
down  from  his  roost  upon  one  of  the  large  posts,  and 
brushed  imperceptible  chips  from  his  nether  garments. 
"  Don't  none  of  you  touch  them  machines,"  he  said  to  his 
assistants.  "  You  can  put  aboard  that  grindstun,  'n'  them 
cheeses,  and  that  pile  of  stuff  there.  I'll  see  to  the 
trunk  " 

"  Mahala  !  "  said  Philip,  seizing  her  hands,  as  they  stood 
in  the  shadow,  "  I  love  you.  You  know  I  will  follow  you 
anywhere,  everywhere,  if  you  will  but  let  me.  But  if  I  do, 
Mahala — you  must  understand  me — I  shall  ask  for  you. 
Will  you  say  I  may  ?  Tell  me !  Shall  I  come  to  see  you 
Wednesday  before  I  return  to  New  York,  and  tell  your 
parents  that  you  love  me  ?  May  I,  dear  ?  "  * 

Just  then  Miss  St.  John  grimly  raised  her  umbrella  with 
a  snap,  and  turning  around  from  where  she  stood  with 
Mrs.  Mather  and  Mr.  Stearns,  she  took  a  few  quick  steps 
and  silently  handed  it  to  Philip.  He  instantly  relinquished 
Mahala's  hands,  said  "  Pardon  !  "  glancing  up  at  the  sky  ; 
but  then  catching  a  gleam  in  the  artist's  gray  eye  that  he 
began  to  understand,  he  took  it,  accepting  it  as  her  bene- 
diction, and  sought  Mahala's  answer  under  its  friendly 
umbrage. 

That  Mrs.  Mather  heard  something  resembling  a  favora- 
ble answer,  under  the  silken  canopy,  there  is  no  doubt,  as 
she  immediately  became  afflicted  with  a  rasping  cough  and 
called  Uncle  Stearns  and  Miss  St.  John  to  the  edge  of  the 
wharf  to  see  the  boat  make  a  landing. 


288  WHEELS  AND    WHIMS. 

The  line  was  thr»wn,  the  gangs  shoved  out  and  the  bag- 
gage trucks  began  to  race  over  the  plank  before  it  was 
hardly  ashore.  Then  came  a  cry  of  joy  from  Julie. 

"  Oh,  Fred  !  Here  I  am  !  There's  my  husband  !  "  And 
genial  Mr.  Mather  sprang  ashore  and  into  his  wife's  arms. 

"  Ah,  Uncle !  You  have  taken  right  good  care  of  the 
girls !  Much  obliged,  sir !  I  went  to  New  York  Satur- 
day and  returned  by  the  boat  to  surprise  the  little  lady.  I 
was  going  to  take  her  home  anyhow." 

He  looked  fondly  at  her  as  she  clung  to  his  arm. 

"  What  in  thunder  is  Plummer  doing  down  here  ?  Who 
is  that  toney  fellow  with  the  little  Wright?  Thought  this 
was  to  be  exclusively  a  woman  party  !  " 

The  wheels  were  carefully  trundled  on  board.  Uncle 
Stearns  promised  to  come  up  and  visit  them  soon,  and 
Philip — he  would  go  to  Hartford  Wednesday  morning ! 

And  then  the  party  went  on  board  the  boat. 


A     000  031  353     6 


